


An Unusual Arrangement

by 1241578



Series: An Unusual Arrangement: Two Endings [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mature Harry Potter, Mental Health Issues, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Post-War, Powerful Harry, Severus Snape Lives, Soulmates, Switch Severus Snape, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1241578/pseuds/1241578
Summary: This story takes place two years after the end of the Second War. Severus Snape, saved by Harry Potter's quick thinking, has returned to his post as Potions Professor and Slytherin Head of House following the retirement of Slughorn. Harry, after finishing his education, decided against becoming an auror and has instead taken the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and Gryffindor Head of House.Since the war, tensions have been rising between Slytherin and the other three houses. Potter expresses interest in helping Snape resolve this issue, but he also has another problem in mind.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: An Unusual Arrangement: Two Endings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188416
Comments: 44
Kudos: 255





	1. The New Professor

Another bloody year, just like the rest.

No, actually, though it may appear similar on the surface, the whole world had changed since the last time I taught at this school.

Voldemort is dead, as I should be too. But, the efforts of a foolish boy had left me here to continue suffering under the weight of all my mistakes.

Who knew he had paid close enough attention that day to replicate the spell I had cast on Malfoy in the short time I had left? Although I did not savor the concept of joining the 'I died for Harry Potter' fan club, owing a life debt to the boy was somehow worse.

I grimace at the very idea, shaking my head in exasperation at the situation I've found myself in.

I look across the head table to regard Minerva, taking her seat as the newest headmistress of Hogwarts, though I'm sure if she could have it her way that seat would remain empty in _his_ honor for the rest of the school's existence.

To her right sits the new head of Gryffindor and Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, possibly the only qualified one we'd had in years, myself excluded. He had stepped into the position after I was needed to fill Slughorn's vacancy in the potions classroom. He turns suddenly, as if he could feel my eyes upon him, bright emerald green orbs behind circular frames lock upon my eyes before a small, sad smile crept across his face.

Damn that look. It's the same one he had given me when I confronted him over his decision to save my life. Such a worn down expression did not belong on the face of a twenty year old boy, it was far too close in resemblance to the expression Albus wore in his final moments that night at the Astronomy Tower.

The Boy Who Lived had faced more horrors in his two decades of life than most could imagine and it had become apparent in every aspect of his appearance. Dark rings were a constant companion to his eyes, his skin was ashen and covered with scars both old and new, and his figure was too slight, reminding me of how he had looked each fall after escaping those slave drivers he called family members. Still, his eyes shone with a silent determination and wisdom beyond his years, another thing that made him look too much like the last damn wizard I had killed.

That thought brought me back to reality, which in turn reminded me that I had been staring the boy down for the last few minutes, his sad smile had turned sheepish and a slight tint of pink had taken over his pale cheeks. I abruptly turned my head away and attempted to refocus on my meal.

Before long it was time for the marching in of the first years for the Sorting Ceremony. Although I could already pick out the upcoming Slytherins from a mile away, I feigned interest in the ceremony by offering a strong scowl, one which deepened every time the word "Gryffindor" echoed through the Great Hall. If one thing hadn't changed through all of this, it was my hatred for that house and all who inhabitted it.

\----

I made my leave of the Great Hall as soon as the blasted festivities were over. 

"Professor Snape!" 

I grimaced and upped my pace heading towards the dungeons.

And in moments my path was blocked by a grinning Harry Potter, damn his youthful energy.

I look up at the boy and manage the most disgusted sneer possible. "To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with the illustrious Harry Potter this evening?" I drawl, emphasizing my distaste for the entire encounter.

The boy blushed slightly and turned his head, not the wincing and tail tucking reaction I was hoping for. "Well, uh-" he begins to stammer.

"Out with it Potter, I'd rather like to enjoy my last evening of freedom."

"Well I was just wondering if you had any advice for a new professor?"

I wouldn't have believed the sincerity of his question if I couldn't see his face, eyes searching mine and cheeks lit with slight embarrassment.

"Nearly every other member of this school's staff is falling over themselves in joy at the thought of having you here, Mister Potter. Why exactly do you seek the advice of one of the few who still despises you?"

Potter locked his eyes with mine, a glint of determination flaring. 

"It is exactly because of that, I want your input because I know you'll be blatantly honest, if not a little unnecessarily hurtful." 

"Well, my apologies to disappoint, O Saviour, but I have no bloody interest in teaching you anymore. Good day, Mister Potter." 

And with that, I stormed past the boy and into the safety of my chambers.

\----

God damned kids were already causing trouble, in the dead of night no less.

I stormed towards Gryffindor tower in a rage. 

Potter caused me enough headaches as a student, now as a professor he was enabling a whole army of red and gold mini me's. 

I came up upon the entrance to his office and began to take my frustrations out on his door. After a few minutes of incessant pounding I heard a groggy voice call out "One bloody minute!" from inside.

I was raising my fist for another go at the door when it suddenly swung open, revealing a half clothed and slightly disheveled Harry Potter. 

His hair was somehow more unkempt than usual, his glasses askance, and his shirt missing. 

When my eyes landed on his toned chest I found myself unable to look away, instead following the thin line of hair down from his stomach to the line of his boxers.

Damn.

"Can I help you Professor? Or did you wake me just to ogle?" 

His affront snapped me back to the moment, giving me the opportunity to recompose myself, despite the shameful blush which threatened to stain my cheeks.

"Well, Mister Potter, if you could first bother to make yourself presentable, I wish to step in and discuss the behavior of some of your students." I drawl, sneering with all the malice I could muster.

With a sigh, Potter waved his hand and was suddenly fully clothed. I blink a few times from shock before reminding myself, yes, despite how much of an ignorant twit he was, Harry Potter truly possessed the strongest magic of any living witch or wizard. Wandless, wordless magic was not only something he was capable of, it was also simple enough to be used in mundane moments without hesitation.

As I enter Potter's office, I remind myself to be a little more hesitant the next time the urge to hex the man came over me.

I pause for a moment, something felt off about my last thought, what was it?

Oh, 'man'.

I suppose I've been confronted with rather strong evidence that contradicts the label I've kept slapped on Potter since he was a sniveling First Year.

My thoughts were interrupted by Potter's offer of a seat and tea. I accepted the former begrudgingly but refuse the latter. 

"So, Professor, what has your knickers in a twist at 2 o'clock this wonderful morning?" Potter asked, smirking around his cup. I was less than amused.

"Potter, you may no longer be my student, but you're still expected to treat me with some degree of professionalism as your colleague." I grimaced to punctuate my disdain for his manner of speaking.

"Sorry, sorry." He smiled apologetically but humor still lit his eyes. "Let me try again, what has upset you enough tonight that you thought it pertinent to come discuss with me at this early hour?" My grimace deepened as I observed his self satisfied expression. Before speaking, I took a moment to bridle my anger as to not lash out and give myself a headache.

"I found three separate groups of little Gryffindor miscreants wandering the halls this evening, stirring up trouble. I think you, Mister Potter, need to get a handle on your house."

The man laughed and shook his head. "For all that has changed in these halls, one thing hasn't. Surely you know of the Gryffindor test of courage administered to all of our First Years? It's harmless bonding, part of what brought me so close to Ron and Hermione, I don't see the point in stopping it."

I sighed and began to rub my temples, of course he wouldn't get it. "If we allow the breaking of rules now, it only teaches this impressionable children that they can do it again in the future, likely causing larger issues." 

"So, what did you do to those you caught?" Potter asked, seeming to change the topic.

"I took fifteen points from Gryffindor. A piece." I emphasized, letting my frustration with the detour in the conversation become apparent.

"Then I think we've done enough, don't you? You must realize that First Years take the House Cup Challenge to heart, right now losing points is the scariest thing they think can happen in these halls." 

It's hard to deny his point, even the Slytherin First Years were particularly sensitive to how their actions may impact the house's standing in the race.

"Well-" I huffed, exasperated with the conversation and the late hour. "If this behavior continues I expect you to be the one who explains how 'harmless' it all is to the Headmistress."

And with that, I turn and storm out, vaguely aware of the "Good night, Professor Snape" which follows me out into the corridor.

\----  
  
I had fallen comfortably into what I believed to be a dreamless sleep when a familiar scene from the day began to replay.

I stood at the door to Harry Potter's office, banging away to the point the door shook in its frame. When he finally emerged, I was once again faced with that sight I had witnessed before.

His chest seemed to gleam in the firelight. Despite being slim, what weight he did have was almost entirely muscle. I once again found myself nearly enraptured by the trail of hair leading down to his boxers, except this time I could see a pooling of hair and just a hint of what laid beyond.

I swallowed thickly.

And suddenly, he's towering over me. 

Straightened out to full height, which he so rarely does, Potter stood a good fifteen centimeters taller than me.

"Severus." His voice rumbles, bringing my attention back to his eyes, which gleamed with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

His lips curled into a wicked smile before stepping forward and crashing into my own. His tongue swipes gently, looking for entry. 

Part of me was horrified by the progression, yet another part of me, which apparently had control over my motor functions, opened my mouth and welcomed his tongue with a low groan.

He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me into his office, slamming my back into the wall and pressing himself against me, our arousals colliding. Potter laughed against my lips before moving his hand down, snaking under my pants and then-

I woke up.

I go to jump out of bed but am stopped in my tracks by a sensation across my stomach. I'm sticky.

Damn it all.

\----

I was cleaning myself up in the shower when my thoughts began to drift back to my dream.

I really dreamt that the Boy Who Lived was a poof? Not bloody likely.

No, last I had heard he was with that dreaded Weasley girl.

Was he as rough with her? Surely nothing about him seemed gentle, he was a young man and a ball of wild energy. He probably fucked her like there's no tomorrow; for him tomorrow was never guaranteed.

I realized the hand that had been cleaning my cock had unknowingly swapped over to stroking.

Getting off on the idea of Potter fucking some girl? I sneered at my hand which so willingly betrayed me and urged my arousal to subside before exiting the shower.

\----

I gloomily made my way to the Great Hall for breakfast. After a poor night's sleep I was confident I would be unable to make it through the first day of classes without a hearty meal.

As I approached the Head Table, I found my eyes drawn to one Mister Harry Potter.

He lounged casually in his seat, wearing blue and gold robes over a white dress shirt and black slacks. Part of me silently bemoaned the doubtless wave of young admirers he'll rack up due to the outfit alone, another part of me noted how his dress shirt was cut low enough to reveal the entirety of his pale throat.

And then his verdant eyes were upon me, as if he had felt me looking from across the dais. His eyes sparkled through deep dark circles, making me feel as if he was looking through me. I averted my own gaze and quickly made my way to my seat, shame burning my cheeks as my thoughts returned to last night's dream.

I hastily ate my meal and stormed out of the hall, doing my best to ignore the existence of the man sitting only four chairs away from me.

\----

"There's no Voldemort to save you now, whatcha gonna do?"

I was preparing to round the corner and break up yet another fight between some "pure" house and Slytherin when an unexpected voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Thomas, Jason, just what in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

I peeked around the corner to get a better look at Potter, who stood wand pointed and eyes blazing.

"Nothing sir, honestly we were just teasing." One boy, Thomas I think, tried to defend their harassment.

"Oh what a crock of shit, fifty points from Gryffindor for lying to your head of house, another fifty for nearly attacking a fellow student."

My jaw dropped, heads of house never took points from their own.

"I don't know what you've gotten into those thick heads of yours but no student here is your enemy. If I see this behavior from you again I won't hesitate to bring my concerns with your enrollment at this school to the Headmistress, am I understood?"

The two Gryffindors nodded nervously before scurrying off, leaving Potter and the Slytherin boy (a second year named Matthew, I noted) alone.

"Hey, are you alright there?" The anger in Potter's eyes was gone, replaced instead with genuine concern.

Matthew finally raised his head, tears in his eyes. "Why did you stand up for me, they aren't wrong you know, my dad was a death eater."

"You are not your father." The professor said confidently, patting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'd gladly stand for any student at this school, you all deserve to feel safe here, no matter what. I know times are difficult for your house, but if this happens again please let me or Snape or the Headmistress know, we will not tolerate this."

Matthew threw a hug around the man's neck while whispering a quick thank you before running off. Potter then straightened himself, muttering something about foolish Gryffindors before looking up and noticing my presence hiding behind the corner.

"Oh, Professor Snape! How much of that did you see?" The Gryffindor's shocked expression quickly gave way to a slight blush, his hands fidgeting with his cloak sleeves.

"Nearly the entire spectacle I believe." I drawl, attempting to hide my- what was exactly? pride? in the man with a scowl.

"I'm sorry for that, I forgot myself for a moment and was ready to hex those boys." His blush deepened for a moment before he shook it off. "Seriously though, I'd like to discuss these issues we're having between our houses, if you're willing that is."

I paused for a moment, assessing the sincerity of the man's suggestion. "Very well Potter, when do you deem it appropriate for us to meet?" 

"How about Friday evening? I'm rather bogged down with work for the rest of this week but want to address this as soon as possible."

"Friday it is then." I said to the man's youthful smile, already damning myself for giving up a weekend evening to him, no matter how important the subject.

\----

That Friday night I found myself once again outside Harry Potter's chamber door. This time there was no need for incessant knocking, instead the door swung open after just a light rapping.

Potter stood in the doorway, dressed in black head to toe, his dress shirt included a similarly daring cut to the one he wore on his teaching debut. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, cuff links discarded for the evening. Flashing a crooked smile, he welcomed me into his office. Upon sitting down a liquor cabinet in the corner opened, revealing the collection inside.

"Can I interest you in anything?" Potter asked, floating over his own glass of whiskey. I assess his selection from a distance, recognizing he had poured himself a glass of my favorite scotch. "I suppose I'll take one of the same." And within moments I was holding my own tumbler. 

We both nursed our drinks in silence for a while before Potter finally spoke up. "Well, I didn't just invite you here to drink. I want to get to the bottom of this, what can I do to help your house?" I let out a snarky laugh into my glass before responding. "The Gryffindor golden boy really wants to help the damned Slytherins? What has the world come to? Unless you can make everyone forget what side some of us took in the war I doubt things will ever change." 

Potter's jaw clenched and unclenched and for a moment I thought I was successful in riling him up, but then he spoke. "It's not fair. For every Slytherin who helped Voldemort there were two who gave their lives for our cause, you should know this as well as me, you were nearly one of them Snape." Could it be possible? Could well known Slytherin hater Harry Potter be defending my own house to me? 

"Well, what about those whose parents didn't fight or die for the cause? Surely you're aware that many of my students come from Death Eaters." I wait and gauge Potter's reaction and was surprised to see him anger at my words.

"They're children dammit! They didn't ask for any of this. Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe place for them to decide their own path, not feel backed into a corner by their own peers!" He let out a heavy sigh and poured himself another glass of scotch, then offered the bottle to me, which I gladly accepted. 

We returned to drinking in silence for a while. Potter seemed to be mulling something over, looking for his answer in his tumbler. Finally, he knocked back the last of his third glass, shook his head, and met my eyes once more.

"You know, I was supposed to be a Slytherin." I had expected a marriage proposal before I expected that wild card. "H-how?" I finally manage to stutter out, ever intelligently. 

Potter laughed before answering, clearly amused at my shock. "Well, that's where the sorting hat first thought I should go, but I ended up arguing with him until he put me in Gryffindor." 

Of course he did. That hat has been sorting Hogwarts students for hundreds of years without fail and of course Harry bloody Potter would argue his damn way into whatever house he pleased. Although, the more I thought about it the more entirely Gryffindor the situation sounded.

Oblivious to my inner monologue, Potter spoke up again. "Do you think things would have been different? If I had been a Slytherin, I mean." 

Now that was an interesting question, what would have changed? His father would be rolling in his grave for one, but I think Potter already knew that. "Well, for starters I would have been a tad easier on you." I managed to half joke in response. "But I also fear you could have been misled in my house, it was for the best that you insisted on being sorted into Gryffindor." 

Potter seemed to pout at this for a moment before pouring himself and I another glass of scotch. "Well, I suppose you're right. I just feel like this is all my fault, if I had tried harder back then maybe I could've saved more than just Draco."

"You've grown" in more ways than one, I add silently as an afterthought. For a moment I feared Potter's shocked expression came from overhearing my addition, before processing that he considered what I said to be a compliment. 

I suppose it was a compliment. Why the hell did I say that? I was trying to figure out how to undo this damage to my reputation when the man began to speak.

"I appreciate you saying that, Professor Snape. Look, I know our relationship hasn't always been a pleasant one, but as you've said: I've grown. I can't fix what happened in the past, but working towards the future I would like to do whatever I can to improve the relationship between our houses, would you work on this with me?"

I mull over Potter's proposal momentarily. He appeared genuine in his efforts, but how much of a headache would this cause me? "So be it Mister Potter, what shall you have us do?" I eventually agree, in the end anything that could help my students is worth investigating. Besides, maybe spending a little extra time with Potter and remembering how much of a little git he is would help me get rid of my dreams.

\----

It was Friday evening and I had once again found myself in Harry Potter's office drinking scotch. We had been keeping up these weekly meetings for over a month now. Each time we would drink, discuss any relevant news, make plans for the upcoming week, and sometimes even idly chat. 

I thought spending more time around the man would help my dreams subside, but these meetings seemed to be adding fuel to the fire. I was thankful for the progress being made between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but seeing a horny Potter in my dreams every other night was becoming too much to bare.

I lingered around after our official business was done, sipping on my fifth glass of liquid courage. I don't know why I was so hesitant to tell Potter that I didn't want to meet anymore, surely I could shrug off any questions he asked with an accusation of him wasting my time. Maybe I valued the progress we were making between the houses too much, or maybe I had grown accustomed to spending my Friday evenings with him, though I'd never admit it.

I thought I had finally steeled my nerves when I looked up from my glass to find Potter mulling over his own issues in his head. Between teaching him for years and these late night conversations I had developed an eye for reading Potter's face. He had his brow scrunched up and was worrying his lip, he had something to ask me. "Out with it, Potter." I announce with a sigh, part of me grateful to have a distraction from my own problems. 

"What do you mean Professor?" Potter seemed surprised that I had spotted his issue, though I don't know why. Surely he had been made aware at some point of how easy it is to read his face. "You have a question for me, spit it out before I have to break out a bottle of veritaserum." 

Potter swallowed thickly and averted his gaze before speaking. "Well, Professor Snape it's just that- I've just noticed how you've been looking at me recently."

Fuck, Shit, and 'God Damn' as the muggles say.

"Looking at you how exactly?" I felt myself puff up in an attempt at intimidation. "Well," Potter pressed on, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks. "you look at me like a piece of meat to be honest." 

Yeah, I'd done it now. Great job Severus, how'd you get fired from Hogwarts again? Oh, sexually harassing the Boy Who Lived? An honest mistake we've all made, I'm sure.

"Professor?" Potter snapped me out of my downward spiral. He was looking me in the eye again, his blush deeper than before. "I'm not upset about it. Actually, I had a proposal I wanted to make."

Oh great, what was it going to be? Blackmail? Extortion? A confession of deep, undying love? Surely none of these options seemed to bode well for me.

"You see, it's kind of hard for me to find, well- it's hard for me to find _partners_ with the whole Boy Who Lived title. Between worrying about my partner being too serious about our arrangement or about how they could easily turn the affair into a newspaper headline, I haven't been able to be with someone for quite awhile. But, with you I can trust there will be no falling in love and that you'd keep quiet about the entire situation so I guess what I'm getting at is-"

"Stop, just stop for a damned second." I had too much to process, too many questions. Carefully, I began to line them up in my head and ask them one by one.

"What about that youngest Weasley?"

"Ginny? She's like a sister to me, there was never anything between us."

"And Miss. Chang, or that Lovegood girl?"

"We decided it'd be best to just be friends."

"So, are you a poof?"

"Maybe? I've never been with a man before, but it's not like the idea is off-putting. How does someone know whether they're gay or not without trying?"

Great, so Harry Potter wanted to experiment with his sexuality with me.

"And why does it _have_ to be me? Surely there's someone else in your ever growing circle who is both interested and trustworthy."

Potter shook his head and sighed. "Not that I'm aware of, trust me when I'd say I'd be more comfortable having this conversation with Ron or George if I could, but our relationship just isn't like that."

I drop my head to my hands. Harry Potter was really sitting here and propositioning me. Worse yet, I was sincerely considering saying yes!

"So, you really want to fuck your greasy old Potions professor?" I looked Potter in the eyes hard, searching for even the slightest bit of hesitation. I decided if I found any, I would reject him.

Instead of hesitation, I saw the light of humor in his eyes. "Well, I wouldn't go so far as to call you greasy." He joked as he stood from his chair, making his way around the desk. "Will you let me prove my seriousness?" He stood so close I could smell him and suddenly my mouth went dry. All I could do was cough and nod, managing to squeeze out a rushed "Go on with it then."

I didn't have to tell him twice. Immediately, Potter was on his knees in front of me. He pressed against my bulge through my pants and looked up at me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I guess all the talking got you a little worked up." He said as he undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants. "Forgive me if I'm not the best, it is my first time. Can you tell me what feels good?" Potter asked as he pulled down the elastic of my boxers, releasing my cock to the cold air of his office. 

The chill didn't last long, almost instantly Potter wrapped his hand around my arousal and began to stroke slowly. He stopped momentarily to rub the head where a bit of pre-come had leaked out, which illicited a light moan from my throat. 

That seemed to be the encouragement he needed, because next he was carefully bringing my cock to his lips. With his lips pursed, he began to slowly take me in and didn't stop until he was nearly at the base. He let out a slight hum upon realizing how far down he had made it, which sent shivers down my spine. 

Potter slowly began to bob his head up and down, tongue working gently around me. And then, he began to speed up, adding his hand to stroke the base of my cock. "Potter," I half moan. "Look up at me." When he did I wished I had a camera. His green eyes sparkled with something I hadn't seen before and his pink lips were wrapped around me so beautifully. While holding eye contact with me, he began to speed up again, taking me even deeper into his throat.

"Merlin yes, just like that." I realize I had buried a hand in his ever wild hair, urging him along, but couldn't bother to care. "I'm getting close." I warned, but instead of stopping to jerk me off, Potter just blew me harder. When I finally came it poured into his throat. I watched as a thin line of come trickled down from the corner of his mouth, then he pulled his head away from my cock and, while still making eye contact, swallowed all the spunk I had shot and licked away the little that had escaped. I was in shock.

"That was your first time giving a blowjob?" I asked as Potter looked up at me from the floor. "Well yeah, I just did what feels good when I get one, did I do okay?" The mental image of Potter getting a blowjob was already bringing life back to my arousal, although I wasn't sure why the idea excited me so. "Yes, you did okay." I managed to finally answer, I wasn't about to tell him it was one of the best blowjobs I had been given in my life, the last thing I needed was something like that going to his head.

"So, are you willing to take my proposal seriously now?" Potter asked, hopping up to sit on his desk. For some reason it was this moment that my reasonable brain managed to kick back into gear. I began to refasten my pants before speaking. "Potter, relationships between staff is an issue on one hand, but on a whole other level is the fact that I'd be fucking someone who had been my student for seven years. Does that sound appropriate to you?"

Potter sneered at the word 'appropriate' and shook his head. "It's always about what's proper, I'm supposed to be some god damn shining beacon of hope for the wizarding world, but has anyone ever considered that I didn't want all this? Can't I have just one skeleton in my closet? And don't you think we've already come a little to far to quit? Is this conversation really gonna end with 'Thanks for the blowie but never talk to me again.', does that seem _appropriate_ to you?"

I was torn between raising hell over his terrible impersonation of me and scolding him for trying to lecture me, but in the end I did neither. Instead, I stood up from my chair and made my way to the door that led to Potter's private chambers. Upon reaching the door, I turned around and quirked an eyebrow. "Coming, Potter?"

I didn't have to ask twice, instantly Potter was trailing behind me into his bedroom. I made my way to the bed and turned to see him casting some quick silencing and locking spells, maybe a few too many but you can't damn him for being careful. When he was done with that he turned to face me and positively beamed. I manage a scowl and a "Hurry up." which prompted Potter to begin undressing.

I decided I wanted to hold off on disrobing myself so as to see the full scope of Potter's body. As he undid his dress shirt I was once again greeted by that trail of hair that started this whole damn mess. Then came his pants and lastly the boxers, which when discarded revealed his rock hard arousal. He was big. Bigger than me. Bigger than I anticipated. 

"So," Potter began to ask, forcing me to tear my eyes away from his prick. "Are you a top or a bottom?" I bark out a snide laugh in response. "You really haven't thought this through, have you? What if my answer isn't what you're wanting?" A blush rose on Potter's cheeks before he could get out an answer.

"Well, uh, I figured I'd just be flexible, ya know?" I sighed and shook my head. "I'm a switch Potter, so take whichever position you're more comfortable with." Potter's composure brightened back up at my words.

"Alright then, I'll be on top." He declared as he made his way to the bed. I then began to disrobe. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Potter summon a vial of lubricant and set it aside on the bed, at least he was prepared in that sense. 

Once completely naked, I settled myself i  
onto the bed, beckoning for Potter to climb on top of me, which he eagerly did. He began at my throat, placing wet kisses and soft bites, then worked his way down to my chest, my nipples, my thighs. He let a warm breath out on my prick, which was yearning for attention. He looked up at me, half of his face blocked by my arousal, and smiled that same mischievous smile he had let loose earlier. "Shall we get started Professor?" He asked in a voice I didn't know he possessed, a low, lustful whisper. I nod and leaned my head back in preparation for the main event as Potter pulled my thighs to his lap. 

He quickly uncapped his vial of lubricant, pouring half of its contents into his hands before replacing the stopper and setting it aside. After rubbing the liquid between his hands to warm it up he leaned forward, breaching me with one finger.

Slowly, in and out. It had been years since the last time I felt this sensation, I forgot how pleasant it was. Soon, Potter added another finger and began to enter deeper, searching for something. It wasn't long before he found it, I jerked and closed my eyes as he made contact with my prostate, letting out a low moan. I couldn't see Potter's face but could clearly hear his hum of self satisfaction.

After prodding me a few more times he fully withdrew his hand, turning his attention to his own cock. I heard the schlick of lube being rubbed across his shaft and soon felt his head pressing against my entrance. He was now towering above me and appeared positively godlike in the soft candle light.

"Ready?" he asked in that same seductive voice. I managed a curt nod and then he was making his way into me. It seemed to just keep coming, like I would never reach the end. Finally, I felt the base of his prick brush against my ass. I had never felt so filled in my life. 

Slowly, Potter began to move, shifting his weight slightly to find the right angle. Eventually he discovered a position that put him right on top of my prostate, which he softly rubbed against time and time again.

As he began to speed up I instinctively reached out for him, wrapping my arms around his back and digging my nails into his skin. It wasn't long before I was coming. My cock, untouched, flinched and shot spunk across my chest. Potter looked down at this development and smiled, taking a finger and dragging it through the come, then sucking it off.

I leaned up to kiss him, but to my surprise he lurched back, removing himself from me. "Now don't tell me you're prissy about that sort of thing." I accuse, mildly aware of the aching emptiness in me.

Potter's face was flushed deeply as he began to stammer. "I-it's not that, I'm just- I'm saving my first one." I don't know if it was his reaction or his reasoning but something had pissed me off.

"Surely you don't mean to tell me you're fine with sucking and fucking your old Potions master but you draw the line at a damn kiss? How childish can you be?" Potter bowed his head apologetically before answering.

"It's just, you know how if your first kiss is with your soulmate you form some sort of special connection? I-"

"Yes I know the fucking story, it's something told to children to keep them chaste." I huff, swinging my legs over the side of his bed, I was ready to get the hell out of there.

"Wait! I'm sorry, I know it's childish of me. At least let me finish you off." Potter grabbed my shoulder, turning me to face his begging eyes.

"I've came twice already and you're worried about finishing me off?" I glanced down at his cock and saw it glistening with pre come, then looked back to see Potter blushing again. "Fine." And with that I flopped back down on the bed with Potter immediately on top of me.

"I'll make it up to you." He whispered in my ear, wrapping his hand around my cock and beginning to stroke softly as he re-entered me. I couldn't hold back a moan as he began to pump into me once again. 

It wasn't long before he found his way back to my prostate, I jerked again as he hit it the first time and looked up to see his green eyes lit up underneath his unruly hair.

"That's the spot, right?" He practically purred as he dropped his head to work his lips over my neck. "Y-yes." I manage to moan dumbly in response. I felt his lips pause momentarily to curl into a smile, then he went full force.

With his head tucked low beside mine, he began railing into me. I felt as if my prostate was going to explode from the amount of pleasure it was enduring. I was vaguely aware that the strangled moans filling the room were coming from me, echoed by Potter's heavy breathing, but couldn't muster up the focus to care.

Potter stroking my cock in tandem with pumping into me brought me over the edge once more, this time though the young man came with me. After holding our position in silence for a moment, Potter pulled out with a satisfied sigh.

I had never believed in after sex glow, but Potter appeared to be positively gleaming. I was too shocked to appreciate it before, but his well built body covered in sweat was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen. It took me a moment to pull my focus from his pecs to his face when he started talking.

"Snape? Do you want a shower or a spell?" he asked, gesturing at my body, which was covered with sweat and spunk. "A spell I suppose." I reply, my voice a little more hoarse than I recall it being. With a quick wave of his hand I felt as if I had just emerged from a spa. Looking towards Potter, I was half disappointed to see he had cast the spell on himself as well, no more shining sweat.

The only evidence that remained of our actions was the clothing strewn across the floor and the smell of sex in the air. As if noticing my thoughts, Potter called his wand and cast a pleasant smelling spell, chasing away the stench of sinful acts with the scent of an evergreen forest. 

Potter then turned to face me again, seeming to ponder a question before finally asking it. "Would you like to sleep here tonight? Or would you prefer to go back to your own chambers?" It was questions like this that reminded me how young he truly was. "Mister Potter, you do not ask your 'hook ups' to spend the night unless you're looking for something deeper than what you've declared the relationship to be." With that I began to search the floor for my clothing, happening to steal a glance at Potter's Quidditch toned arse as he walked by to his closet.

When I was once again fully dressed I turned to find Potter in a fresh pair of boxers, this set so endearingly patterned with owls. I scowl at his clothing choices before speaking. "Mister Potter, I must admit I did not expect to engage in such acts with you in my lifetime, but it would be a lie to say I did not take pleasure in what transpired. If you are still insistent on us having a 'colleague-with-benefits' relationship I will say that I won't object." Potter seemed to brighten at my words. "Really? Thank you Professor, I promise you won't regret this!" For some reason, I didn't trust his words.

\----

I flooed back to my own chambers and immediately plopped into bed upon arrival. I had kept a brave face in Potter's room, but my ass was already starting to ache. Turns out over a decade of accidental celibacy can come back to bite you, huh. As badly as I wanted to fall asleep just like this, I forced myself to get up and disrobe. I made my way to the bathroom where I stored my personal potions cabinet, on the search for a pain reliever. I happened to catch a look at myself im the mirror as I searched and added a debruiser to my mental checklist. 

As I reached for a bottle of Lenio potion I noticed a collection of skin and blood under my nails. Somewhat mortified, I thought back through the events of the night. Then it hit me, I had clawed the ever-loving fuck out of Potter's back.

What the hell had come over me? Even in some of my more intense relationships I had never drawn blood on the first fuck. Why was it that this time I lost all control over myself? It wasn't like we were using sex magic, or fucking in some abnormal position. Potter had been gentle yet firm, not outrageously violent or anything.

Who knew that such vanilla sex would make me feel this way? I shook my head and knocked back the first potion. No, it was just because it had been forever. I had forgotten how good sex felt is all and got a little out of hand. I was sure next time I would have much better control over the situation.

With that thought I knocked back the second of the two potions and made my way to sink to wash the blood from under my nails. I took a quick look in the mirror and watched as the hickies and bite marks across my body began to fade. It made me feel a little empty as the last of the redness waned, when I was younger I had always been proud to showcase the signs of my conquests, but now as a professor I wasn't sure Minerva would appreciate bringing me to her office to have _that_ conversation.

As I laid down for the night, I kept replaying the scenes of what had happened in Potter's chambers. With that being the case, it was no surprise I ended up having one of _those dreams_.

In my dream I had returned to Potter's bed, although this time we were both sitting, he with his back to me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and lazily jerked him off, my mouth focusing on lapping up the blood that ran down his back. I could hear his breathing hitch as I forced my tongue up against one of his cuts by his right shoulder, slightly reopening it. Potter let out a low moan as I sucked away at his back, then reached his hands around to grab my head, raising my eyes to meet his. 

Suddenly, his lips were upon mine. All I could taste was different flavors of him, it felt heavenly. "Is this what you wanted, Severus?" Potter's voice rumbled against my lips. I moaned my approval and delighted in the sensation of his laugh upon my neck. He raised his head back up to my lips once more, catching my bottom lip between his teeth and drawing a little blood. From there the taste of him and me began to mix until it became something entirely new, something beyond what I could explain. 

And then it was gone, my beautiful dream replaced with the sound of my alarm echoing through my chamber.


	2. Adjusting

I groggily made my way to the Great Hall for breakfast, still somewhat aware of the aching pain in my lower back. I had considered taking another round of Lenio potion but decided against it, best not to mess too heavily with strong potions like that. In my robe pocket I thumbed over a soothing balm I had stashed away for Potter. Hopefully it would suffice as an apology for what damage I had wreaked upon his back.

When I entered the hall my eyes immediately darted to his seat, which I found to be empty. After scanning the rest of the room I found him in the midst of a group of Slytherins, laughing as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Yes Jameson, I know your expelliarmus is coming along well. Still, I don't know if I'd call that 'completely prepared' for your OWLs, last I recall you were still having a significant struggle with your Patronus, were you not?" Laughter erupted in the group of fifth years as the young Jameson tried to stammer back an argument to his professor. 

The group fell silent as I approached, the students nodding their heads in aknowledgement of my presence before shooting glances at one another. "Professor Potter, I see you're keeping my house entertained." My eyes flickered from the students to the man standing before me. For some reason his dark circles appeared deeper than usual, but his eyes shone brightly with humor.

"Just trying to make sure all my students are going to pass their standardized exams, the last thing I need to do is keep up the streak of Defense Against the Dark Arts tenure lasting a single year." He patted Jameson on the back then turned towards me once again. "Shall we, Professor Snape?" he asked, pointing towards the dias. 

I nod and began to follow him, making sure to stay close as we approached the platform. "Potter?" I called, coming to a stop between the general seating and the Professor's table where no one was likely to hear us. "Yes?" Potter turned on his heels to face me. "I wanted to give you this, consider it an apology for the- damage I caused last night." And with that I passed him the balm I had been worrying in my pocket. 

Potter investigated the container I had handed him. It was a small silver circular tin with intricate vines carved across the lid and the letters S.S. engraved in the center. "It's a soothing balm." I explained. "For your back." 

"Oh." was all Potter managed to mumble, a blush streaking across his face. "I- I didn't really mind it, you know." he finally stuttered out, his gaze averted. "It let me know you were feeling good." he pressed on, finally daring to raise his eyes back to meet mine.

I wasn't sure why but his honesty nearly brought a shade of pink to my own cheeks. "Well, I'll keep that in mind" I said gruffly, beginning to stride past Potter. Dammit, Severus Snape does NOT blush. First I started sleeping with am idiot and now I was nearly acting like one too. 

\----

The rest of breakfast was uneventful, as was the rest of the weekend. I quietly recuperated from the Friday night fiasco and was in top form heading into Fifth Year Potions Monday morning.

As I entered the classroom I found myself in the midst of a group of girls, all of whom were crowding around what appeared to be a magazine. "The only _reading material_ that should be present in my class is your potions textbook. Ms. Davidson, would you kindly hand over your fascinating piece of literature?" I approached the center of the group and held out my hand, waiting until the student handed me the magazine.

I froze upon looking down at the copy of 'Witch Gossip Weekly'. On the cover was a sheepishly grinning Harry Potter. He was dressed in striking red and gold dress robes and had his hair halfway tamed for once. I watched the motions of the photo as the young man awkwardly blew a kiss and waved. I then turned my focus to the headline: 'The Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor.'

Ugh, of course he is. As I approached my desk I mused over the idea of what the headlines would say if news of our arrangement broke. 'Dark Traitor Sullies the Boy Who Lived' or 'Is Our Saviour Under the Imperious Curse?', maybe even 'Sexual Predator? Former Teacher Makes Move on Potter.' On second thought, maybe it wasn't a great idea to consider such things. 

The logical part of me already felt guilty about my actions, I was a full grown adult taking advantage of a desperate young man. But still, another part of me kept thinking back to the lecture Potter gave me about wanting to do something selfish, I hadn't realized how similar we were in that regard. I had dedicated decades to serving one master or another, but Potter had dedicated his whole life, his whole youth. Now that the war was over he was finally daring to look for his own happiness, who was I to deny him that? If we both found our encounters to be enjoyable (and Merlin knows I did) why should we stop?

I finally tossed the loathsome magazine on my desk and turned my attention to the class. The potion of the day was simple enough, even the thick skulled Gryffindors were able to complete their brews without much complication. At the end of class I begrudgingly returned Ms. Davidson's magazine, already suspecting that I'd see many more copies before the week was over.

The upperclassmen at Hogwarts, like the rest of the wizarding community, were obsessed with Harry Potter. The obsession among these teenagers was different though, far more hormone driven. About half of the women and a quarter of the men hung on every word he said, doing everything they could to catch the man's attention. Every magazine that had an editor with a brain had written column after column about Potter, sharing details of his private life and 'tips and tricks' to woo him.

It made me sick. Why Potter agreed to appear in so many of these shoddy magazines was beyond me, obviously he placed some level of value on his privacy if he wanted to keep his sexual engagements a secret. I eventually decided I'd ask him about it the next time we spoke.

\----

The rest of the week passed by in a blur, until it was once again Friday evening. I'd have been lying if I said I wasn't anticipating my meeting with Potter that night, turned out having sex for the first time in years kind of made you want to have sex again. 

It wasn't until I was making my way to Gryffindor tower that I realized he might not even want to have sex tonight, or ever again even. Surely Potter would come to his senses soon and realize that sleeping with a man who was twice his age and had a fifth of his beauty was not a wise investment for his future.

I was fuming within my own head by the time I had arrived at Potter's office. I knocked a little harder than necessary but was welcomed in cordially nonetheless. "Good evening Professor, how have you been?" 

"Fine." I nearly spat as I continued to play through scenarios of rejection in my head. Potter's brow wrinkled in confusion as he sat down, pouring them each a glass of scotch. He decided, to my luck, that he wasn't going to push the subject and instead turned his focus towards explaining what he had seen of house relations within the last week.

It was a welcome distraction to talk about something important enough to pull my attention away from sex, it wasn't long before we were in a heated debate over some instance of house points being deducted.

The rest of the night went smoothly, but Potter had shown no evidence that he was looking to continue our sexual relationship throughout the talk. So, he really had wisened up. Thoughts of my foolishness made me sick to my stomach.

"I think it's time that I take my leave, Mister Potter." I was turning to exit the office when Potter was suddenly beside me, clutching a sleeve of my robe. "What?" I asked a little to forcefully. Potter jumped at the harshness of my question but didn't turn me loose. "Well, I thought we would- that you'd want to- Ithoughtwe'dfuckagain." He finally managed to spit out in a rush. 

Oh.

I looked at his face, lit with embarrassment. He still wanted me? Did that mean he enjoyed it as much as I had? A million questions were swimming in my head when I realized the man was waiting for a response. "I hadn't realized-" I hesitated. "I hadn't realized you were still interested, Mister Potter."

"Why wouldn't I be Professor? Last week was the best sex I've had in my life, I'd be an idiot if I just let that go." Potter flashed that mischievous smile of his and turned around, still holding my sleeve, dragging me to his bed chambers.

Once we were inside Potter spun around, securing the door like last time. He then turned to face me once again and began to strip. "So I was thinking-" he said as he took off his shirt. "-we could do what-" he continued as he removed his pants. "-you wanted this time." he finished as he dropped his boxers.

What I wanted? If he knew what I wanted I doubt he would make that offer so lightly. I didn't consider myself to be an extremist by any means, but I enjoyed my fun. A man as young as Potter may have encountered a few kinks, but there were many more he'd likely never even heard of.

"So, you'll do _whatever_ I want?" I drawl, raking my eyes up and down his body as I began to disrobe. "That's a foolish offer to make, Mister Potter." 

"I trust you not to go too far." Potter said with a confidence I found to be a little misplaced. "So what will it be Professor?"

I wasn't sure to be honest, I mulled over a variety of possibilities for a moment before one jumped out at me.

"Prohibere." I intoned, pressing my wand to the base of Potter's cock before discarding it to the nightstand. "What does that do?" Potter asked, examining the glowing blue ring around his prick. "Really Potter, do you not even know basic sex magic?" The young man's blush told me no. "It's a spell to keep you from ejaculating until I allow you. Although you'll still feel the need, you simply won't be able to achieve it without me breaking the spell." 

Potter flushed fully at my explanation, his sexual experiences may have been more tame than I anticipated. That excited me, I always did have a fondness for acquainting others with my _interests_. "Now, shall we?" I asked, gesturing towards the bed.

I laid down and looked up at Potter who stood by the side of the bed, he seemed to be formulating a plan of his own. Finally, he climbed on top of me and began to place a necklace of kisses around my collarbone.

The sound of his soft sucking and the warmth of his breath got me excited easily, before long I could feel my arousal pressing into Potter's stomach. Each move of his body produced friction, leading me to let out small moans as Potter worked his kisses across my chest.

He pulled away slowly, a small smile playing on his swollen lips. "Would you like me to change my attention?" A terse nod gave him the go ahead. 

He started by carefully kissing the head, then running his tongue up and down the length of my shaft. A hum sounded against my cock in response to my low moan of satisfaction, sending shivers up my spine.

Then he took me into his mouth, carefully working his tongue around me. My cock swelled in anticipation as Potter's head bobbed up and down. "You're so good at this." I murmured, half out of it. I snapped back to attention to watch a shiver work its way through Potter's body. The man liked being praised huh, I could work with that. It wasn't my usual style, but I was never one to deny a partner what they wanted, at least not for long.

"I don't deserve the pleasure that little succubus mouth of yours can supply." And that was the truth, I still couldn't understand what series of life events had to occur for me to be laying in bed with the man Who Died for Us All. I started to once again drift off into self loathing when Potter's increased speed and suction brought me crashing back into the present. 

It wasn't long until I was brought over the edge, Potter once again taking all I had to offer. His eyes were filled with determination as he avoiding choking, an expression not unlike the one he wore when chasing a snitch on the Quidditch field. When he let me loose he placed one last sloppy kiss on my head, then turned his verdant eyes back to regard me.

"So, what would you like next Professor?" He asked breathily. As he sat up his own arousal came into view, already well swollen. "Get me ready." I said gruffly, my openly lustful expression reflected in his widening eyes.

Potter wasted no time. Within moments he had taken to kissing the tight ring of muscle, carefully plunging his tongue in and out. He then summoned his vial of lube and, like last time, spilled and warmed the contents before crooking his first finger inside of me. 

By the time his second finger was inserted I was rocking into the motions. With his third I became more desperate, letting light moans escape my mouth. I was already becoming aroused again, as if I was some sort of damn adolescent. After he found that I was stretched enough Potter removed his hand and looked up to meet my eyes. "I want you so bad right now." He whispered it as if it was a secret.

I couldn't help licking my lips, I suddenly knew exactly what I wanted. "I trust you can still cast a passable Wingardium Leviosa, Mister Potter?" I ask in a drawl, quirking an eyebrow. Potter stilled for a moment out of confusion before understanding lit up his face. 

"Oh Professor I don't think that'll be necessary." Potter said with a laugh, then hopped of the bed and held out his arm. I took it gratefully, my legs still trembling a little from my orgasm. He then led me to a wall of his chambers that was covered with a large Gryffindor tapestry, pulled me in front of him, then grabbed firmly below my ass to hoist me up. 

He lifted me with no problem. Although his frame appeared somewhat scrawny, his muscles were dense and capable. "Well, it appears someone has been taking care of themselves." I say with a chuckle. "Yeah well, I figured I should be ready in case Voldemort ever wanted a fist fight." Potter jokes back, clutching my ass a little tighter as he smirked.

He then turned his attention back to the business at hand. Carefully, he positioned himself at my entrance and then began to press in. He moved slowly, too slowly. I rocked my hips downward to meet him and was finally filled.

Potter let out a stifled moan as I pressed in against him. "Fuck," he hissed. "You're so hot." I chose to ignore his comment and instead wrapped my legs behind his back, adjusting myself to the perfect angle.

Then, he began to move. Deliberately stroking over my prostate time after time, I came undone in his arms. All I could do was moan and growl as he continued to fuck me, my noises soon echoed by Potter's own as he grew more aroused. 

My legs tightened behind his back, pulling him further and further within me. I had never felt so filled in my life. This position was too good, with the friction produced against my prick I was coming across Potter's chest within minutes.

Potter carefully set me down, giving me space for the strength to return to my legs. "Um, Professor-" He finally began in a hesitant voice once I had my feet back under me. "It's getting kinda painful." He gestured down at his fully swollen cock, bobbing heavily with the weight of what was built up inside.

"Oh, so it is." I murmur, resisting the urge to take him in my mouth right then and there. "Potter, have you ever been introduced to the concept of edging?" I asked wryly. His flush told me he had at least heard the term before. "I've, uh, I've tried it a time or two before but I'm not very good at it." 

The image of Potter panting, alone and desperate flickered through my mind and I knew I was heading down a pleasant track, at least for me. "Well," I began to drawl. "What I've cast on you will work as a sort of safeguard, so we won't need to worry about any sort of accident." The look in Potter's eyes seemed to be made of equal parts fear and arousal, good.

"Now listen to me closely, you're going to touch yourself until you feel yourself hit the wall that is your edge, when you get there you'll release yourself and calm down until you can start over again, are you willing to do this?" Potter nodded his head and regarded his cock before beginning to tentatively touch himself.

His strokes were slow and purposeful, circling around the head once he reached the top of his shaft. It took just a couple minutes before he groaned in frustration and removed his hand. 

Then, after a few moments the process began again. Potter's strokes were a little faster now but still rather refined. When he reached his edge this time he let out a low hiss and pre-come dripped off the tip of his cock onto the stone floor.

And then he started again, and stopped, and started, and I watched as he became further and further undone, his motions growing more and more sloppy.

"Please, Professor, _please_." Potter begged, his legs shaking. "You've done well so far." I croon, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "Just one more, then you'll get your release." With that Potter nodded his head, tears in his eyes, and took his hand away from his cock. Pre-come continued to pool in a puddle on the floor, it looked delectable. 

I dragged a single finger up the length of Potter's shaft, collecting some of his fluid on my finger. I locked eyes with him and licked the pre-come off as lewdly as possible, eliciting a low groan from Potter followed by incomprehensible pleas. I savored the taste in my mouth, it was perfect. 

Once I had finished my display I returned my attention to Potter's arousal. It hung heavy in the air, still dripping pre-come at an impressive rate. "Are you ready?" I asked, voice low and gravelly. "Yesyesyes _please_ yes." Potter begged. "Good boy, start touching yourself again _slowly_." 

Potter cooperated, bringing slow and shaking strokes up and down his cock. "Emitto." I murmured, transfixed on the scene before me. Potter's strokes began to pick up speed as the blue ring around the base of his prick disappeared. It wasn't long before I was showered with spunk, warm and sticky across my chest. Potter cried out in ecstacy and let his knees buckle, falling to the floor. 

I sunk to the ground beside him, carding my fingers through his unruly hair. "You did such a good job, did you enjoy that?" Potter looked up with a sloppy smile. "Yes, Professor. It was perfect." With that he waved his hand, casting a cleaning spell on us both, then got up and flopped down into bed. 

He looked so peaceful as he laid there that I couldn't help but to follow. I settled into the spot next to him and before i knew it Potter had wrapped his arms around me.

"No one's ever done that before." Potter murmured into my back. "Done what exactly?" I ask, somewhat annoyed at his inability to speak clearly the first time through. "Praised me." His voice was small, sad. I turned to face Potter to gauge the sincerity of his claim. His brows were drawn together and eyes red with tears. 

"What do you mean no one's ever praised you, you're the bloody Boy Who Lived." My voice came out a little more accusatory than I intended. "I know," Potter started, shaking his head. "It's just that,, that praise isn't for _me_ , it's for the image that everyone else has for me. If they knew who I really was they'd shun me without a doubt." His voice was dejected, his eyes refusing to meet my gaze.

"Is that why you appear in all those damn tabloids, because that's what you think people expect from you?" I ask, the pieces of an unknown puzzle suddenly starting to fall together. "Yeah, it's what.." Potter trailed off. "It's what's right, it's what they need, they want a normal and happy hero." He finished, tears starting to roll down his cheek. I wiped away one with my finger without thinking, then stilled my hand. When Potter looked up at me with that hopeless expression in his eyes I couldn't help but cup my hand around his face and gently rub my thumb over his cheekbone.

"What about what you want, what you need?" I ask in a hushed tone. Potter let out a bitter laugh and sighed. "I don't deserve that, I'm simply paying my penance." I didn't know what so say to that, so I simply kept my hold on the man's face. "You were right you know, I _was_ a pig raised for slaughter. I wish I had just let myself die like I was supposed to." 

"No." My voice was almost pleading, it took me a moment before I could muster any more words. "What about all that raving from last time? You deserve to do something for yourself, to _live_ for yourself. The war is over and Albus is gone, there's no one left to control you." 

That opened the floodgates for a moment, but then it stopped. Instead, an eerily calm mask took over Potter's face. At least he had finally learned to be a proper Occlumens, though for some reason it hurt my chest to see it being used against me.

Potter sat up, wiping away the rest of his tears. "I'm sorry for that Professor, you don't come here to be my mind healer. I think it's time that we call it a night." Before I could protest (I wanted to protest?) Potter had leapt out of bed and begun collecting his clothes. 

Acutely aware of the chill across my back which spread in his absence, I laid in bed for a moment pondering what I could say to fix this. I begrudgingly got up when nothing came to mind and turned my focus to gathering my own clothes.

\----

I left Potter's chambers with little more than a goodbye. The man had held up that closed off expression for the rest of my visit, unwilling to give whatever emotions whirled in his head any purchase over his face.

That night I dreamt of Potter again, but it was not the sort of dream I was used to. We were back in our occlumency lessons. I remembered in those practices with Potter that it became clear that the boy had suffered serious abuse from his muggle guardians. That same hopeless look had taken over his face at that time as well the first time those memories broke free.

And what did I do then? I sneered at him and told him to work harder, mocked him for the starvation and entrapment he suffered. In reality Potter had gotten angry at my taunting and stormed out of the lesson, but in this altered memory I was met with the neutral expression that placed a crushing sensation in my chest accented by a single tear that traced its way down Potter's cheek. And with that I woke up.

In the moment I thought my treatment of Potter was justified, he needed to be strong in order to face the Dark Lord and I considered him to be an arrogant bastard, just like his father. But I was wrong, he was just a boy. A poor, scared boy who had never truly known love, at least not from anyone who wasn't promptly killed. 

And yet that was what Albus called his greatest power. Despite all of the abuse and bloodshed around him, Potter loved the Wizarding World enough to die for us all. He hadn't owed us a thing, he could've turned his back on the prophecy. But no, he walked himself to the gallows and back and found the world that was left for him after survival was not one he deserved to experience. The man wanted to die again.

That realization sent a chill down my spine. I wondered if anyone else knew how Potter felt. Maybe he really could benefit from a mind healer. I decided then to start gathering resources for him, maybe he'd actually consider speaking if it was with a professional.

With a new goal in mind, I was able to sleep somewhat peacefully for the rest of the night, knowing that in the morning I would start working towards actually helping Potter. He may have thought that a fuck buddy was the cure to his ailments, but I was determined to find a real solution.


	3. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your kudos and comments, they mean the world to me! 
> 
> No smut this time around but looots of relationship building, hope you like it!

I awoke early the next day and, like a man on a mission, made my way to the library before breakfast.

The space was rather empty upon my arrival, most of the students and faculty were likely still asleep. Not that I particularly minded, the peace and quiet was calming and meant that I'd be able to more easily focus on the task at hand.

I worked my way through to the section on magical and muggle psychiatry and pulled a few tomes that looked promising. After making my selections, I made my way to the seating area and set up shop. The first couple books I had grabbed discussed the basics of mind healing magic and how it worked in conjunction with regular therapy. Beyond that there were also discussions of different therapy routes (I marked details focused on trauma therapy) as well as listings of popular muggle schools of thought and how they related to the magical side of the health equation.

Moving on, I turned to my second category of books. These highlighted the efforts of British mind healers and seemed to offer leads as to who Potter could possibly reach out to about receiving his own therapy. I was careful in my search to avoid those who revealed too many details about their patients in their published case studies, the last thing the man needed was a mind healer trying to profit off of his story. Fortunately, those who seemed to overindulge the reader in details seemed to be few and far between. 

Finally, after compiling a satisfactory list of possible healers, I decided it was time for breakfast. I stretched in my chair and glanced up at the clock as I began to reorganize my books.

Oh, guess it was time for lunch instead. It had been awhile since I had felt so motivated to delve deep into a research topic, the hours had flown by without me being aware. Hopefully Potter would appreciate the effort, now there was just the ever so small task of figuring out how to broach the subject with the man. 'Hello, my bed partner, I do believe you're a tad mental. Here's a list of people who could help with that.' Yeah, my social skills were going to require a workout for this one.

I reshelved my books and sighed at the predicament I had worked myself into before setting out for something to eat.

\----

"Hullo, Professor Snape, I missed you at breakfast this morning." Potter waved me over from his seat at the head table as I entered the Great Hall. I considered scowling at the man's words, but he looked like he had something important on his mind, so I held my facial expression in check.

"I had actually been looking for you earlier today, I have a favor to ask." Potter flashed me his best charming smile around his glass of pumpkin juice. "You see, the second years are about to begin their dueling practices and I was hoping you could find the time to step in and help provide an example."

I sighed and fought the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. "Potter, please don't let this go to your head but I'd rather not be soundly thrashed by you in front of students I need to teach for another half decade." The young man practically choked on the sip of his drink he had been working on.

"Hey now!" Potter exclaimed, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. "Don't sell yourself short Professor, you're one of the strongest wizards I've ever met and whatever difference there may be between our strengths you more than make up for with cunning. I'd say I'm the one with more to worry about in this situation, don't you think?" 

I sighed again, heavier this time. Dueling Lockhart had been one thing, but I didn't see how any result of a duel between Potter and I would bode well for me. If I beat him I would be a bastard and if I lost I would be a weak bastard. Still, the man looked desperate for my help.

"Fine." I eventually agreed. "But don't make me regret this." And once I had gathered the specifics about the duel I turned and set myself upon the task of eating.

\----

I wasn't sure I was actually going to show up to Potter's duel until I found my feet walking me up towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. I seemed to regain control over my bodily functions just as I reached the doorway to the oversized room. 

I stood there for a moment, contemplating turning right back around and returning to the safety of the dungeons, but it was too late, I had been spotted. "Professor Snape, I'm so glad you could make it!" Potter exclaimed as he quickly strode across the room, making his way to where I had cemented myself to the floor.

"Professor Potter." I replied in greeting, already cursing myself for allowing this nonsense to take precious time out of my busy day. "Are you and your students prepared?" I asked, ready to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Of course, come along." Potter led me to the raised dueling platform, where second years flocked to either side. Upon our arrival to the platform, Potter turned to face me and we exchanged the customary bow before turning and marching ten paces in opposite directions. Once we were sufficiently separated, we turned to face one another once again and raised our wands into our attack stances. 

One of the second years gave the countdown, and then it began. "Incarcerous." I intoned immediately. Potter deftly blocked the binding attack with a cry of "Protego." He flashed a smirk at me before raising his wand once again. "Stupefy!" He called, although I was able to quickly dodge the stunning attack. 

Our duel went on like this for some time, each attack and counter attack failing to hit its mark. It wasn't until I cast a particularly frustrated Confringo that I managed to land a hit on Potter. The young man went flying and came crashing into the far wall of the room, though he didn't stay down for long. 

He popped up, smiling as he wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth, them set upon me with another barrage of spells. Eventually, I was hit with Locomotor Mortis, but I realized something was off as I cast the counter curse. Potter had stopped casting long enough for me to free myself, the bastard was going easy on me.

I conveyed I had realized as much with a steely glare and a shouted "Deprimo!" which wiped out half of the dueling stage. Potter managed to avoid falling to the ground, but now had much less space to work with. I set upon him with spell after spell, offering him no time to relax, even as I felt my strength beginning to leave me. Our duel had stretched on for quite some time and it was beginning to take its toll.

Potter seemed to get the message though, as an odd glint lit up his verdant eyes. He began to match my pace of attacks and counter attacks and finally landed an "Expelliarmus," which sent my wand flying to his hand. What a Potter way to end a duel.

The crowd of second years errupted into cheers, with a few calls of "Don't mind it, Professor Snape!" mixed in from my snakelings. Potter waved to the cheering crowd before striding across what remained of the platform to return my wand. "Don't be too mad, Professor." He whispered, a small smile playing on his lips. "I would've been more than happy to lose to you."

"Yes, because that would've put me in such good graces with all of your adoring fans." I drawled, taking a look around at all of the chattering students. "Would you care to stay? I suppose there are a few Slytherins who could even wipe the floor with my Gryffindors." Potter said with a chuckle, nodding his head towards a couple of whispering students from my house. "Oh, you suppose Matthew and Alexandria are good enough to take on Thomas and Jason?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow, perhaps I would stay.

And stay I did, which I was grateful for just to see the look of shock on the faces of Thomas and Jason as they were both soundly beat by their Slytherin opponents. Potter flashed me a knowing smile upon both victories, I suppose that humiliation was one way to mend house relations.

\----

It was Friday night once more (how long had this arrangement been going on now, months?) and I had again found myself in Harry Potter's bed. Like everything else, spooning after sex had become a habit. Sometimes we would talk, other times we would simply lay there and listen to the sound of one another's breathing. Each time this happened I found myself looking for an opportunity to bring up my research about mind healers, but so far no time had felt right.

Tonight though, tonight may be different. Potter was being more open than usual. Apparently Black's birthday had been just a few days prior and the young man admitted to having nightmares about that night in the Department of Mysteries each time this part of the year drew close.

"This is nice, you know. I'm so tired now I think I may be able to get by without any dreams tonight." Potter murmured into my hair. 'Now is the time, Severus.' I thought, steeling myself for the conversation that laid ahead, before turning to face Potter. "It doesn't have to be like this, you know." I searched Potter's eyes as I spoke and could see him hesitating around bringing up the shields of his occlumency. 

"What are you talking about?" He asked, after a long pause. "I mean- I mean that there are people who work to help with these sort of things. You've been through a lot Potter, I legitimately think visiting a mind healer would be incredibly beneficial for you." 

Potter's face worked into a frown and he appeared to chew over a variety of answers before responding. "Do you think I'm cracked up?" He finally asked, a light of worry in his eyes. "No, Potter, I don't think you're 'cracked up', you just need help. Do you think I'm cracked up? Because after researching the topic, I've been heavily considering going to a healer myself." The fear in the young man's eyes seemed to fade away at my admittance. "So, you're thinking about seeing one? A mind healer?" 

"Yes, I'd say we both have a rather strenuous amount of baggage that we're carrying around and now that the war is finally over it's time that we took care of it. I've done a fair amount of reading and have identified a few viable offices if you'd like to see the list." I held my breath waiting for Potter's response.

"Yeah, yeah I think I'd like that." The young man answered, wrapping me up in a warm hug. "Thank you Professor, really. I don't know what I'd do without you." Whether it was the words or the contact I wasn't sure, but some part of that interaction sent a pang of an unidentifiable emotion into my heart. Instead of dwelling over it, I simply reciprocated the hug, pulling the young man closer to me. We stayed like that for the better part of an hour, until I finally decided I needed to leave if I was to get any notable amount of sleep that night.

I left Potter's chambers with a promise of supplying him a list of mind healers at the upcoming meal and felt like a great worry had been lifted from my heart upon my return to the dungeons.

\----

Potter had found a mind healer he wished to visit, but his appointment would have to wait, as it was my and his weekend to chaperone the students' trip to Hogsmeade. Waking up bright and early, I begrudgingly dragged myself to breakfast in the Great Hall to eat a decent meal, as I was sure I would need all the energy I could get in order to survive the day.

Potter was all smiles when I arrived, making me feel as if I'd need to be chaperoning him today as well. "Ready for our big excursion, Professor Snape?" He asked around a mouthful of eggs.

"One would have hoped you would have learned some manners by now, Mister Potter." I said with a sneer, displeased to have witnessed such a scene first thing in the morning.

"Sorry, sorry." Potter muttered as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. More stellar manners there, but I withheld my comment. "Do you have any plans for Hogsmeade?" He asked, fiddling with a pile of hash browns on his plate. "Yes, actually. Besides keeping the miscreants in line I have quite a bit of shopping to get done."

Potter seemed to deflate a little at my answer, although I wasn't sure as to why. Instead of answering, the man nodded then returned his attention to eating in earnest.

I myself settled down for my own meal, although soon it was time to escort the children into town.

Upon arrival in Hogsmeade Potter and I went our separate ways, Potter muttering something about a Butter Beer. I didn't pay too close of attention, I was already focused on my mental shopping list. There was plenty to be gathered in just a few hours. Now, where to start?

\----

"Professor Snape! It's Professor Potter, he's been attacked!" Whatever parchment I had been holding dropped from my hands at the news. Immediately, I turned to face the voice that had burst into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop and found Lisa Tarrison, a third year Hufflepuff. 

"What do you mean he's been attacked, by who?" Before Miss. Tarrison could respond a deafening bang ricocheted through the street, rattling the store's windows and likely blowing out those closer to the epicenter. 

I dashed out into the street, wand trained in the direction of the blast, to face a surprising scene. Immediately, I picked out a head of unruly black hair. Potter was laying in the middle of the street by the Three Broomsticks in what appeared to be a pool of his own blood. Behind him cowered three Hogwarts students. Next, my eyes landed upon the perpetrators of the attack and my blood ran cold. 

I instantly recognized the masks worn by the assailants. "Death Eaters." I muttered to myself, already running towards the scene. Of the two attackers, the one closest to me noticed my approach almost immediately. I began to prepare a curse, what I'm not sure, but before I could land anything the nearby Death Eater grabbed the attention of his partner and both disapparated with a crack.

"Potter, are you alright?" I asked as I fell beside his bleeding figure, there was no response. "Potter, answer me!" I shook him, but to no avail. "Harry, please." Whether it was his first name or my pleading that roused him, I'm not sure, but the man did manage to lift his head and flash a weak smile, saying "Oh, were you worried?" before going limp again in my arms. "Infuriating even when near death." I growled to myself as I rolled the man over to get a better look at his wounds.

He had three large pieces of glass lodged in his abdomen, along with other smaller pieces and cuts throughout the rest of his body. Immediately, I realized there would be no moving him to Hogwarts until he was stabilized, which meant I needed to do something right then. 

After casting a flurry of cleaning and diagnostic charms I carefully grasped the largest shard of glass, my wand trained at the entrance point. As soon as I had wedged the glass loose I cast a spell to stop the bleeding and then repeated the operation twice more.

With the largest task done, I turned my attention to undoing his robes, wanting to check for any internal bleeding and broken bones. In any other situation I would have been embarrassed to be undressing an unconscious Potter in broad daylight, but the blood soaked across the young man's chest reminded me exactly of what was going on. 

Although the glass had wreaked a fair amount of havoc, it appeared as if it had managed to avoid all of the vital organs, thank Merlin. I was beginning to work on a plan to transport Potter back to Hogwarts when one of my diagnostic spells came back with a concerning result.

Potter had managed to deplete about seventy-five percent of his magical core, how? I immediately set to questioning the students who were hovering near the scene, but none had seen the man cast any spells. "Just what in the hell have you done now, you git." I muttered to myself, now doubly concerned about getting Potter to the hospital wing as soon as possible.

I eventually decided the safest route would be to levitate him the whole way, although it would be draining and time consuming. I called upon two prefects who were nearby, directing them to gather the students from Hogsmeade and send any with injuries to Madam Pomfrey. I then turned my attention to casting a Patronus to send word to send word to Poppy about the incoming situation and another to tell Minerva of what had transpired.

With all of that taken care of, I set about to moving Potter, slowly but surely, to safety.

\----

I expected the hospital wing to be busy upon our arrival but found only Minerva and Poppy waiting for us. Poppy immediately directed me towards a bed by her office in which to lower Potter into while Minerva eyes the situation in quiet contemplation. As the mediwitch set to caring for her patient, Minerva finally took the opportunity to jump into her questioning.

"Just what happened?" was the first question out of her mouth. I held back a sigh and a bitingly obvious remark, instead opting to be compliant in my questioning. "It was Death Eaters, not sure who or why, but one can only assume that Potter was their target." Minerva's expression was grim as she regarded the man laid out on the white hospital bed, his blood already dyeing the sheets a sickly color of red. 

"I had hoped the boy would finally be safe, that he would get a chance at some semblance of peace in his life." She sighed and shook her head. "I had as well." That was the truth, partially because whenever Potter ran into trouble my involvement wasn't ever too far behind, but also because the man had faced more horrors in twenty years than any halfway decent wizard deserved to deal with in a lifetime.

"You must be exhausted Severus. Please, go get some rest, we can figure out what we're going to do once Mister Potter wakes back up." Minerva placed her hand on my arm, offering me a light squeeze.

I returned to my chambers long enough to get a shower and a change of clothes, but found myself drawn back to the hospital wing immediately after, unable to sleep.

Potter was looking better when I returned, no longer coated in blood. He still seemed rather ghostly, but Poppy promised me that he was on the mend and simply required a decent amount of rest. 

I decided to take up post in the uncomfortable visitors chair next to Potter's bed, much to Poppy's surprise. For just a few hours, I promised myself. That turned into a few more hours, which turned into having my meals delivered to the hospital wing, which further evolved into me only leaving when visiting hours closed for the night. It was the third day of this process when I finally dared to take my eyes of the sleeping figure before me long enough to doze off.

\----

"Professor Snape?" I woke groggily to the call of my name. Looking upwards, all I saw was stark white and the muted light of evening, it took me a second to recall that I was in the hospital wing. I turned to regard my patient, one Mister Potter, and found him to be smiling, a little more color in his face than when I had dozed off. 

"I take it I owe you my thanks." Potter said with a laugh, although the joy didn't seem to reach his eyes. "Did you see your attackers?" I asked, immediately getting down to business. Potter's attempt at joviality fell at my question, a look of frustration setting upon his features. "Yes, Death Eaters right? I know they were masked, but could you recognize either of them?" I sighed and shook my head. 

"No, unfortunately I had never seen either of those masks before. It's highly likely that they may not have even been active while I was a spy, last I had heard there was a small wave of new recruits following the end of the second war." 

"Hah, really gotta be pretty backwards to join a sinking ship like that." Potter said, letting out a mirthless laugh. He then began peeking around the partition to his bed, cocking his head to the side. "What about the students, was anyone hurt too badly?"

Just like Potter to nearly die and ask about others before worrying about his own health. "No, Potter. No one else sustained more than a bruise or scrape. I don't know what happened, but somehow the glass from the explosion only targeted you, the students who witnessed the scene said they'd never seen anything like it before."

The man in the bed seemed to ponder on this for a moment before responding. "I think I may know what happened. When the explosion started I remember rushing towards the students I could see, all I could focus on was the idea of protecting others and I felt a really big drain on my magic and then- then I went out." I felt my eyebrows raised as Potter danced around what he believed to be the answer to this irregularity.

"So, you believe you cast some sort of spell that refocused the explosion on you?" The idea sounded crazy but this _was_ Harry Potter we were talking about. "Yeah, Professor Dumbledore used to talk to me about magic of sheer intention, it's kinda like wandless magic, right? Except there's no specific spell either, it's just pure wishes being funneled through magical energy. He said I showed promise of being able to achieve things like that someday." 

"Well, that explanation certainly seems to fit the situation. When you arrived at the hospital wing you weren't just physically injured, your magical core was also significantly drained. I suppose a sudden act of intention magic, especially when you haven't been practicing it, can be rather damaging. I don't know how the hell you consistently get away with these type of feats, any other wizard would have died a few hundred times in your shoes Potter." I emphasized my last line by pinching the bridge of my nose, which mustered a legitimate laugh from the young man before me.

"Oh you know me, I'm just meant to be the hero, can't keep me down for long." With that, Potter returned to craning his neck around the hospital divider. "Hey, where's Madam Pomfrey at? Do you think she'll let me loose now that I'm up and about?"

"Eager as ever to get out of my hospital wing, huh Mister Potter?" Poppy seemed to appear as if summoned, tutting at Potter as he tried to swing his legs off the bed. "You've been out for three days now and have just regained consciousness, I will not have you running amuck and winding right back in bed." Potter's eyes went wide and he turned to face me. "Three days?" He squeaked. I suppose I had left that part out. 

"Yes, three days, and Severus here has been so kind as to stand sentinel for most of it. If you haven't already thanked him for saving your life I suppose you should add that to your considerations as well." Potter didn't take his eyes off of me, an odd look lighting up his face. He looked ready to speak again, but I decided I'd rather not hear what he had to say. 

"It's nothing Potter, I simply wanted to make sure the Boy Who Lived didn't die on my watch. The last thing I need is _your_ blood on my hands." That was true, at least partially. I was well aware the man would be well taken care of in the hospital wing, but every time I left, a sickening sense of dread settled in my stomach until I returned. If I didn't know any better I'd have worried I was concerned about the man.

Before Potter could work out a reply, a fourth figure made their way into our small gathering. "Mister Potter, I'm glad to see you're finally awake." Minerva smiled at the man, although the light didn't seem to reach her eyes. She had been visiting almost as frequently as I had. Potter was, of course, one of her favorite Gryffindors, whether she'd admit it or not. 

"Professor McGonagall, I'm sorry for worrying you." Potter managed a sheepish smile as he picked at his hospital gown. "It's no matter, I live to worry about my students and faculty, such is the job of a headmistress. That aside, Poppy would you mind giving us some space?" The mediwitch nodded and went on her way, once she had returned to her office I threw up a quick silencing charm and looked between Potter and Minerva. "I believe we should consider reconvening the Order over this, Harry." The young man's eyes immediately went wide.

"No way, I can handle this Professor. The last thing I need is more people being dragged into another battle. This was one rogue attack, don't you think such a reaction is too harsh?" I silently nodded my head in agreement, although Potter needed protection he did not need the weight of resuming the operation of the Order on his shoulders on top of everything else. "What would you have me do, Mister Potter? It isn't safe for you to be about right now. The more people we get on this the faster the situation can be solved." 

"If I may, Minerva. I believe this situation can be managed between the three of us until we learn more about the scope of the problem." I interjected, not entirely unaware of the grateful smile Potter flashed in my direction. "And how do you propose we do that? I'm limited in my ability to help with all of the duties I handle as Headmistress, the protection of Harry would mostly fall upon you."

"When hasn't it?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "I fully understand what I am offering at this moment, as long as Potter has no objections then I don't particularly understand what the issue is."

"What exactly are you offering?" Potter finally piped up from his bed. "I will be giving up my privacy in order to assure your safety. We would likely combine quarters and spend any time outside of the castle together, all while working on determining how serious this threat on your life is and how to best handle it."

Potter's eyes went wider as he processed this information. "You'd really do all that for me?" The young man finally asked. 'Yes you bloody git, I live to serve.' I wanted to snarl back, but I held my tongue. "Severus, I'm sorry that we must always ask so much of you, I truly don't know where the Wizarding World would be without your assistance. Now, get some rest Mister Potter, that way you can get out of here and back to teaching." Minerva patted her hand on my back before taking her leave.

And thus it was settled, my life as Potter's personal bodyguard had begun. As much as I wanted to drown my sorrows in a bottle of FireWhiskey, some small part of me was thankful for the task. At least with me being the man's keeper I didn't have to worry about the competency of anyone else who might have been entrusted with his safety.


	4. New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!! Thank you all so much for your patience as I wrote this chapter 💕 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.

Following my decision to watch over Potter came a variety of choices and arguments (both big and small) to be had before the man was to be released from the Hospital wing. Things had been going smoothly at first, but all hell broke loose when it came time to decide whose quarters would become "home base." I, of course, was of the logical stance that the dungeons made for a well defended and /unexpected/ hideout for the young professor, while Potter insisted that he "couldn't survive in such a dark and damp place." I couldn't help but let out a snide laugh at that comment. What was he, a flower?

We had entered into another hushed round of debate upon my arrival to the Hospital wing, which was appearing to be as fruitless as all those that came before it, when a third voice interrupted the dispute. "Gentlemen, it's nice to see both of you so energetic first thing in the morning." Minerva approached Potter's bed with a warm smile on her face. I was surprised to admit it, but the Headmistress had seemed more at ease since my declaration of protection I had offered Potter the evening he woke up.

"Oh, hullo Professor McGonagall." Potter greeted Minerva as I supplied my own nod of recognition. "May I ask what has gotten the two of you so worked up on this fine Thursday?" The Headmistress shot a look between the two of us, waiting for someone to speak. "Well," Potter finally piped up, "Professor Snape and I are having a little bit of a disagreement about who will be moving to whose chambers is all." Minerva let out a laugh at Potter's response.

"Oh, to think you two would go from mortal enemies to bickering over bed chambers in the span of just a few years, fate runs a funny course doesn't it?" She finished chuckling to herself before continuing on. "Anyway, I do believe Gryffindor tower may be the best place for you two to call home at the moment. Not only is it necessary to keep up appearances in case he's being watched, but Harry would also be more comfortable there."

Of course, it was best to keep Harry bloody Potter comfortable, don't worry about what the man who's sacrificing his freedom wants. I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Potter's smug smile from the corner of my eye, bastard. "Fine." I conceded, shaking my head. "When do I move in?"

\----

It was Saturday afternoon before Potter was officially released from the Hospital wing, a full week had passed since his admittance. I, of course, was there to oversee his exit, before flooing myself to his chambers in order to avoid attracting any more attention than necessary, besides that I was also confident the man was going to be bombarded by concerned students and faculty alike (it was nearly impossible to keep them all from disturbing his recuperation in the Hospital wing) and I definitely did not want to be caught in the crossfire of /that/.

My prediction of a waiting mob must have been correct, as it wasn't until an hour after my arrival to Gryffindor tower that Potter finally appeared, looking decidedly ragged. "I should've just flooed with you." The young man announced as he plopped down into a chair. "You would have had to face them at some point, best that you got it over with now before they grew even more rife with worry." I drawled from the seat of my own overly stuffed chair. 

Potter cast a cursory glance across the room he had vacated for over a week. It wasn't long before I noticed his eyes light up with curiosity and I turned my attention to focus on what he found so interesting. It turns out he had discovered the newest fixture in his office, a new door on the far wall which led to my temporary private quarters.

"What, did you think we would be sharing a bed chamber?" I asked curtly, raising an eyebrow. Potter's ears growing red was all I needed for a response. "Do you really think that if McGonagall knew what we did in private that she would leave you in my care? I believe if she had so much as an inkling to the true nature of our relationship I'd be put on trial or simply hung on sight." 

Potter gulped and averted his gaze, apparently he had never gave much consideration to what I was risking with our 'relationship.' Of course I could be locked up or worse if discovered with Potter, Merlin knows an ex-Death Eater like myself couldn't have any good intentions for getting that close to the Boy Who Lived. 

My spiraling thoughts were quickly interrupted by a small voice, so quiet I at first couldn't make out what it was saying. "You'll need to speak up if you want me to actually understand you, Potter." 

"I'm sorry." I froze.

"Sorry for what, exactly?" I finally mustered the courage to ask, although I could a hazard a guess as to what was coming. 'I'm sorry, but we really are too different for this arrangement to work, etcetera etcetera.'

"I'm sorry I didn't consider your position in all of this."

Oh. That wasn't what I was expecting.

"When I started this- this arrangement, the only thing I considered was how it could impact me. I was careless to not consider what I was asking you to put at stake. Are you… comfortable? With this? If not this could be the end of it all, I won't ask anything more of you." Potter's words rang sincere and his eyes mirrored the sadness in his voice.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, standing up to begin pacing the floor as I searched for the right words to say next. "Potter, I am a grown man who is twice your age. You may have failed to consider the complete ramifications of our actions, but I have not. I decided to sleep with you knowing full well what risks that entailed. I also find it abhorrent that you believe you have the capability to pressure me into doing something I do not wish to do, I have given you my consent before and I have meant it and if I were to give it again I would mean it then too."

With that, Potter was up and behind me. "You promise?" he whispered. "Yes, I promise." I responded firmly. "Then do I have your consent now? To have sex?" Although I couldn't see him, I could hear that damn smile in his voice and, sure enough, when I turned around I was face to face with Potter's signature stupid smirk. "Yes, you have my consent now." I drawl out my reply.

In one swift step, Potter closes the distance between us. With two more, I am pushed up against the wall with a small thud. One of Potter's hands moves to my collar to begin undoing my robes while the other places an ironclad grip on my hip. "I've been wanting to do this for a while, ya know? As a thank you for saving my life and all." Potter said with a laugh, followed by a triumphant exclamation as my cloak fell to the floor.

"Is that so?" I asked as Potter began work on removing my shirt. "Yep," He replied as he relieved me of my button up. "I thought about thanking you right there in the Hospital wing." Now there's an interesting image, me bent over a hospital cot getting railed by the young, desirable Hogwarts professor. That image soon faded and my focus flickered back to reality as Potter began to work his lips across my jaw and down my neck.

He paused to suck at my pulse points and even lightly bit at one, which elicited a low moan from my throat. He took his time moving down my body, planting kiss after kiss, until he arrived at my cock which was straining against the confines of my pants. I closed my eyes as Potter cupped my bulge in one hand while he raked his fingers down my chest with his other, sending shivers down my spine.

And suddenly, he had stepped away. I felt the loss of his warm hands and my eyes immediately flew open in a moment of bewilderment, only to find that the man had stepped away to enter the doorway to his bed chambers and had now turned around to gesture that I follow.

We fell into our usual ritual of locking, silencing, and stripping before we stood to look at one another. I found myself looking Potter up and down, taking in each small feature I hadn't noticed before. He truly was marvelous.

Potter seemed to notice what I was doing and quickly closed the space in between us in response. In moments, I was laid out on the bed and Potter was strattling my waist. From this angle I had a great view of his cock, glistening with pre-come. I thought about forcing him off of me so I could suck him off, but Potter had other things in mind.

He once again set that little succubus mouth to work on my chest, rolling his tongue across one of my nipples while he squeezed the other with his hand. When he let go of my chest, he began to shift downwards, dragging his body against my cock in the process.

Next, Potter set about preparing my entrance, summoning his vial of lubrication to help loosen me up. I always loved Potter's teasing strokes on my cock as he did this, as maddening as they were. His touch was light, just firm enough to set off the alarms in my head but not enough to bring me anywhere near the edge.

Suddenly, Potter released his hold on my cock as he plunged two fingers into my stretched arse, rubbing against my prostate and shooting electricity through my nervous system. "I Want you, now." I nearly growled as the young man removed his fingers. Potter obeyed, smoothly lining up his heavy cock to my entrance, and pressed in.

I always forgot how good it felt to be filled, especially being filled by Harry Potter. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he began to fuck me, slowly finding the right angle and rhythm. I could hear and feel him panting in my ear as he began to speed up. "Oh Merlin, have I ever told how damn tight you are?" The young man muttered as I squeezed even tighter around his cock, which got me a low groan from Potter's mouth that sounded like heaven.

We were both close. Potter's movements had become more frenzied while I was beginning to push down into him with every stroke. "Yes, Potter, FUCK!" I managed to moan between gasps of air as he buried himself in me and came, which led to my own intense orgasm.

\----

As we laid in bed together afterwards, I found myself once again distracted by Potter's body in front of me. Like the time before, it was not a particularly lustful distraction, it was driven by some emotion I couldn't quite put my finger on. Slowly, I began to run my fingers across the young man's back, tracing scar after scar, as if memorizing them. I felt Potter stiffen under my hands for a moment then relax, although he said nothing. I wanted to ask about where each mark came from, but quickly decided against it. Sure, a few may have come from near death triumphs, but likely many more came from tragic stories.

We had been laying together for hours when I finally began to get up and head for my own room. I didn't make it very far before Potter stopped me by speaking up. "You don't really have to go, do you?" I turned around to get a good look at him and saw how genuine his question was. "I'll stay for another hour, no more."

I never ended up going back to my own bed that night.

\----

It didn't take long for the two of us to fall into a routine. Most nights we slept separately, but if we had sex there was a fifty-fifty chance as to whether or not I would end up returning to my own room before morning. When morning did arrive I would take the floo down to the dungeons and get cleaned and dressed for the day, arriving at the Great Hall usually about fifteen minutes after Potter had shown up. We would go about lectures and meal times with little contact, but come the end of my evening detentions or office hours I would lock the door to my quarters and floo back fo Gryffindor tower. 

In the nights that weren't filled with more carnal pleasures, we would drink or play wizard chess or simply read in silence. Although not exciting by any means (besides the thrill of being given the opportunity to mock Potter's chess skills), I found myself looking forward to each night. 

Maybe part of it was the fact that, through these peaceful nights, I was beginning to learn more about Potter. If you had asked me a few years ago I would have told you I know everything of consequence about Harry Potter, but now I've found that to simply be false.

On one of the first nights I learned that Potter tries to mimic his Weasley friend's strategy when playing others in chess (and typically fails miserably), on another I found out that Potter was actually reading the books about mind healing that I had recommended to him, and on yet another night I became aware of the fact that Potter hated muggle gin.

Maybe in the past I would have considered such details trivial, but I was now fascinated with them. Perhaps this was simply my analytical brain engaging in methodically dissecting an unfamiliar organism, Merlin knows I haven't had the chance to engage in my potions research which usually kept me so preoccupied.

Yes, I was dissecting the behavioral patterns of one Harry Potter, but why- for what purpose? Because I was still thinking like a spy? To keep myself entertained? What did I have to gain from this minute attention to detail?

\----

One night, about a week after Potter had returned from the Hospital wing, upon my arrival to Potter's chambers I found the man seated at his desk, poring over some dusty looking tome. "Good evening, Mister Potter." The young professor's brow was furrowed in concentration and he didn't pull his eyes away from his reading, but did manage to mumble a hasty 'hullo.'

Rather than interrupt him again, I decided to make my way across the room and check over his shoulder to see what he had found so fascinating. What I discovered was that Potter had read deeply into an old book about the practice of intention magic.

On the page he had open there was a diagram depicting the flow of magical energy throughout a wizard's body and how it could be cast without the focal point of a wand. "It's a combination of strength and willpower, like using the Unforgivables." Potter murmured, almost to himself. 

"Yes," I replied, unsure as to whether I was welcome to continue. Potter's head turned to lock eyes with mine, prodding me to finish my sentence. "The Unforgivables are one of the strongest connections we have left to intention magic, your patronus is another link to that history. Still, it is not as simple as any of those spells. The amount of sheer power and practice necessary to master this art is astounding, but-"

Potter's eyes glinted with joy at my sudden ending. "What, were you going to say 'but you're Harry Potter.'?" "You're a prat." was all I could muster in response, he had hit the nail on the head.

"So, you really think it's feasible? For me to learn this?" The young man asked, rising from his chair to face me in full. "Of course, Potter. You could do damn near any bloody thing you want, you of all people should have realized that by now." I meant for my comment to be a biting remark, but it seemed to have landed as more of a compliment based on the stupid grin that had spread across the professor's face.

"Wipe that damn smirk off of your face Potter." I glared down at the man, hoping that some semblance of an intimidating professor still resided within me, but my attempt seemed to only succeed in rousing a bout of laughter from my colleague.

"Seriously though," Potter began after he wrapped up his laughing fit and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Would you help me? Learn, I mean. This all so theoretical and this book has way too much academic jargon for me to be able to understand on my first read through. I'm sure with your help we could halve the time it takes for me to master this." 

So now we've jumped from 'can i do this?' to 'when i master this', damn Gryffindors. I pinched the bridge of my nose and held out my hand to Potter, which the man successfully understood to mean that I wanted his book. I began skimming through the pages and realize Potter wasn't wrong, the style of writing used was about as convolutedly academic as some of my most prized books. Potter does well with straight instructions, we learned that much from a certain potion book.

Then it hit me. The potion book. "I have an idea." I announced, turning to face the young man. "Since you did so well with my translation of a complicated book before, I believe that perhaps another translation is necessary." "You're a bloody genius, Severus!" Potter exclaimed, jumping from his chair and wrapping me in a tight hug.

This close, I could smell the man's aftershave and- wait. Did he just call me 'Severus'? I leaned back from the hug to get a good look at Potter and his bright red cheeks told me he had realized his mistake as well.

I reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to lock eyes with me. Before he could begin back pedaling and apologizing, I spoke. "There's no need to get so worked up over calling me by my own damn name, Potter." I said that, but my heart pounded oddly in my chest even now.

"We are not only colleagues, but also bed partners. One may argue that it would be more odd for us to refer to one another in such a formal manner despite our circumstances, would then not?" The young man looked down at me, embarrassment apparently gone and a small smile playing on his lips. "Does that mean you'll call me Harry, at least in private?" 

"I've already called you by your first name before, you git." Potter- no, Harry cocked his head inquisitively, apparently trying to recall such an instance. Oh, of course he wouldn't remember, he had been bleeding out and mostly unconscious. Thinking back to the panic I had heard in my own voice as I called his name, maybe it was for the best that he didn't maintain such a memory.

"Regardless, yes I will refer to you as Harry in private, and you may refer to me as Severus if you wish. Now, leave me be. I need to get started on my interpretation of intention magic."

\----

Once again, another weekend had arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This one, though, I would not be spending on the school's campus. No, instead Harry and I were heading off for our first mind healer appointments. We had managed to each find a healer we found suitable and were lucky enough to discover the two worked at the same practice in Diagon Alley.

We set off early, arriving at Diagon Alley around 10:45 a.m., leaving us a good 15 minutes to get to the practice and get settled. The building the healers were housed in was warm and inviting, with comfortable furniture available all throughout the waiting room. Harry and I each picked an armchair and sat down to wait.

Harry was called away first and in his absence I suddenly felt far more nervous about what I was doing. I had felt confident when I announced to Harry that I would also be going to see a mind healer and I knew it was the right choice for me, but now that I was staring down the problem of my mental health I couldn't help but feel a little skittish.

I sat and contemplated everything that had happened in my life for me to wind up in this chair, but was interrupted by someone calling my name. 

"Snape? Severus Snape?" I turned to look at the voice who had startled me from my thoughts and found a middle aged mediwitch who wore a warm smile, my mind healer Paige Higgins. I awkwardly offered her a handshake, then followed her into her office.

Similar to the waiting room, Paige's office was decorated in an inviting manner. I half expected to find one of those chaise lounges but instead discovered there were multiple arm chairs similar to those placed outside. Paige offered me a seat and then tea, both of which I accepted, before getting down to business.

Much of the first session was answering questions and setting goals. I explained to a surface level extent my involvement in the two wars as well as some of the trauma I had experienced as a child. As I spoke, I found myself growing more at ease and more willing to say things I usually kept private about myself. I even wound up mentioning my current involvement with a certain colleague of mine, though I kept the details as sparse as possible.

When it came to goal setting, I was a little stumped. I knew I needed help, but I had never gave much consideration to what exactly I needed to work towards. All that really came to mind was the blanket idea of 'I want to be normal'. Paige responded to this by asking me what normal was and I was stumped once more.

Eventually we settled on the main thing for me to begin working on: processing the grief and anger from my past and learning to let it go. I was happy with this goal and somehow felt as if some small weight had begun to be lifted from my shoulders when I exited from Paige's office back into the main waiting room.

When I arrived I immediately spotted Harry in the corner, eyes puffy and red. My heart dropped to my stomach and I crossed the room in four long strides. Of course this had been too much for him, what was I thinking? "Harry, are you alright?" I crouched down in front of him, cupping his cheek, not particularly caring who was there to see me do such a thing.

Harry scrubbed at his eyes before looking at me and- and laughing? "What- what's so funny you damn git?" I sputtered, letting go of Harry's face and stepping back. "I'm okay, I'm okay. It was a good cry, I promise. Honestly, I really needed it." Harry smiled up at me, one of his genuine smiles, and I felt my heart slowly return to its rightful place in my chest. "Don't scare me like that." I chided the young man as he stood up. As I said this, a strange expression flickered across his face, but was gone before I could process what it was. "I'll really try not to Severus, I promise." 

\----

By the time we made it back to Hogwarts, a chill had taken up residence in the air. That reminded me, the school's winter break was fast approaching, what would Harry and I do? On one hand, I could let him drag me to whatever damned Weasley Christmas party he wanted to, but on the other I knew we'd both be much safer in the castle.

I was trying to figure out how to breach the topic when Harry began to speak. "So, what will we do for the holiday? Watch the remaining students run amuck in the castle?" He asked with a laugh. I couldn't help but recall a certain memory of a small Harry Potter doing exactly that with his little partner in crime Ronald Weasley, then came another recollection of the same small boy looking at the Christmas feast as if he had found the Holy Grail itself. That last memory was worth a chuckle, Harry's eyes had truly been the size of dinner plates that night.

"What's so funny?" Harry stopped and turned to ask, scrunching down his brows. "Nothing," I replied, "I simply think that only one of us would be /watching/ the chaos. The other would simply join in." Now Harry was laughing too.

"So, are you really fine with staying here?" I asked after Harry got over his little fit. "Yeah, of course! Christmas at Hogwarts is my favorite. Besides, it'd be a little difficult to explain why you were coming as my plus one to the Weasley Christmas party." 

Well that settled it, Harry would be spending his first Christmas at the castle in years with me, Severus Snape. Does that mean I need to get him a Christmas present?


	5. Turning Tides

Before I knew it, the last couple weeks of the term slipped by and Winter Holiday was upon us.

The final day of class before the end of term was always atrocious, I refused to assign a potion in most of my classes, as I didn't want to have the dungeons blasted to bits right before I was to be free of all these wretched children. I instead opted to lecture, relishing in each opportunity to deduct house points from over-excited students who couldn't help but zone out or chatter rather than pay attention to my advice regarding the first potion they would concoct upon their return in January.

If I thought my classroom was a mess, the Great Hall was an even larger disaster during lunch time. Voices swelled into a cacophony of noise as students exchanged plans and goodbyes in preparation for their month long absence. As I approached the Head Table, I was surprised to find Harry looking rather worn out, quietly pushing his food around his plate rather than eating it.

"What's the matter, Potter? I assumed you would be feeding off of the energy frenzy." I drawled while looking down my nose at the young man. Harry simply sighed and let his fork clatter onto his plate before turning to face me. It was in that movement that I caught the telltale signs of scourgio cast on Harry's teaching robes. 

"It turns out that teaching uses for incendio on the last day of class wasn't a fantastic idea." Harry's face soured as I fought back a bout of snickering, the Boy Wonder with his robes lit aflame by a pack of imbecilic fourth years was an interesting image indeed.

Harry grumbled for a few more minutes about his classroom mishap, but seemed to noticably brighten when dessert was served, a good bread pudding was one of his favorite foods after all.

The rest of the day went about as smoothly as one could hope for and by nightfall the number of inhabitants within the castle had severely dwindled. 

That night, I returned to Harry's office to find a tumbler of fire whiskey being thrust into my hand upon arrival.

"Welcome, Severus! Figured we might celebrate the fact that I survived my first term as a professor at Hogwarts." Harry explained, a lopsided grin illuminating his face.

"Yes well, I suppose there is some reason to celebrate, considering the post you have claimed. Two more terms and you will have set a record." I drawled, thinking back on some of the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors that Harry had seen in his time at Hogwarts.

"Well the way I figure it, so long as I have you to protect me, there isn't much I need to worry about." Amusement sparked up Harry's features.

"I suppose now is a great time to let you know I'll be retiring come next fall then?" I tried to school my features into a signature serious expression, but failed to maintain my composure as Harry's jaw practically dropped to the floor.

"No fair, Severus! Don't pull my leg like that." The young man pouted like a child for a moment. "Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you." It was then that the fire whiskey hit me, as my chest suddenly felt warm.

We spent the rest of the night drinking and talking about nothing in particular, it was all rather relaxing. When we went to our separate chambers I found that the warmth in my chest began to die out. A shame, really, it had been quite comforting.

\----

Harry and I fell into a new routine rather easily. It resembled our regular pattern in most ways, except the time that was usually occupied by classes was instead taken up by our personal interests. Harry spent most of his days holed up in his office, practicing bits and pieces of intention magic, while I hid away in my own office to translate the best tome on the subject we had found.

One day, about a week into the Winter Holiday, I decided to take a break from translating the book of intention magic and flooed from my personal chambers to Harry's office, wanting to see if the young man might be interested in having his arse handed to him in wizard's chess. 

I found his office to be empty upon my arrival and couldn't help but notice the small note of panic that rang out in my chest. Quickly, I strode across the room to his private chambers, wand arm ready to go. I found his bed chambers to be empty as well, but urged my heart to slow its beating. Harry was no prisoner, nor was I his warden. He was not required to stay in his room and he surely didn't need to make me aware of every movement he took about the castle.

As I chastised myself, I caught the faint sound of whooping and cheering. I looked out the window just in time to see a figure whiz by. I chose to walk back out to the young professor's office where there was a bigger set of windows in order to get a better view of what was going on outside. Once there, I found that Harry had taken up his broom and was flying about with some of the older students. 

I had watched the man fly at Quidditch games for years (although never too happily as his presence never boded well for Slytherin's shot at the Cup) but as he hugged the side of the tower I realized for the first time just how _graceful_ the man looked in the air. He wasn't whipping around like he usually would on the Quidditch pitch, instead he was making lazy circles around Gryffindor tower, all while laughing heartily as the students around him tried to keep up. 

He stopped by the window to his office and for a moment I thought I had been spotted, but no, the oblivious man was still focused on saying something to his flying partners below. This close I was able to inspect his wind swept hair and cheeks struck rosy red by the chilled air, he really was beautiful. The man began to laugh at something one of his companions said and I found myself unwittingly drawn in, as if my very soul yearned to be close enough to truly hear the sound. 

I nearly had my face pressed to the glass by the time I regained some sense of composure and sense of shame over my behavior. Unfortunately, I was not able to back away before I finally caught Harry's eye, immediately recognizing the amusement that lit up his face when he caught me spying on him from his own office. I barely made out the words 'I'll catch you all later.' as Potter flew off towards the ground, most likely preparing to return to his chambers.

I considered fleeing before he could arrive, but also knew I couldn't avoid him long enough to get him to let the incident go so when Harry arrived to his office he found me sitting in one of his over-stuffed office chairs, resigned to my fate of being mocked for the next few hours.

"Did you like the show, Severus?" Harry asked as he practically sauntered into the room. I only grumbled in reply, looking up to still find that sparkle of amusement in his eyes. His appearance was still entirely windswept, though it wasn't an unattractive look on the young man.

I braced myself for an attack that never came, as Harry left the issue of my staring at that. Instead of prying further, he simply walked past me and into his personal chambers, off to do Merlin knows what.

\----

The weeks continued to pass by in some semblance of harmony, until Christmas morning was upon us. I was pacing nervously in my temporary personal chambers, a thick and heavily warded journal in hand.

I had made Harry his translation of the intention magic text, but somehow that hadn't felt like a substantial enough gift. Still, what do you give the man who has everything? I decided upon expanding the journal to make it more useful. In my analysis of the readings, I found that intention magic relied greatly upon a strong understanding of the caster's psyche. With such being the case, I provided space for Harry to write about his thoughts and feelings, along with some mindfulness exercises I had recommended to me by my mind healer.

Hopefully he wouldn't hate it.

I slipped the tightly bound journal into one of my inner robe pockets and set my course towards Harry's office.

"Severus! Merry Christmas!" Harry announced cheerily, wearing that damn Weasley jumper that he had owned since his school years, which had clearly been altered to fit his adult frame (although not quite well enough, as when he stood and stretched I couldn't help but catch a decent dose of midriff).

"Merry Christmas, Harry." I said in a manner that hopefully sounded a little bit less like Scrooge than it did in my head.

We sat for awhile, drinking tea and watching the snow fall outside of Harry's office window, until the young professor eventually piped up. "Oh, I should get your present, I'll be back in just a moment."

Harry quickly dashed off to his personal quarters, reemerging moments later with a large basket overflowing with what I recognized to be potion ingredients. Acromantula venom, fairy wings, jobberknoll feathers, they were all incredibly rare or expensive items, the whole basket likely cost as much as my home on Spinner's End. 

"Harry, Merlin why did you spend so much?" The young man simply shrugged. "I figured you deserve it, is all. You don't really strike me as the type who has had people splurge for him, at least not on items that you'd actually use." 

I couldn't help but recall Lucius' ever so generous gift of three peacocks upon our first Christmas as friends, and his absolute confusion as to why I rejected the abhorrent gift. The memory brought forth a bout of laughter that left Harry with a worried expression on his face. "Don't tell me I managed to mess this up." he insisted, looking back and forth between the gift in his arms and me in my chair.

"No, no, I appreciate the gift, Harry. I'm simply laughing at a memory." Once the fit had passed I suddenly felt the weight of the journal in my pocket and a tinge of inadequacy. "Well," I began as I reached for the bound book within my robes. "My gift is nowhere near as extravagant, but I hope you'll find it useful nonetheless."

With that, I handed the journal over to Harry. "It's my translation of the intention magic book, along with some exercises I considered useful and some space to write your thoughts and track your progress." As I finished speaking I realized I had averted my gaze, looking down at my robes rather than meet Harry's eyes.

Finally, I forced myself to look up and was met with a blinding smile. "Thank you, Severus!" Harry exclaimed, standing from his chair to wrap his arms around me in a tight hug. I froze for a moment in shock. He liked it?

Cautiously, I returned the hug in an awkward manner. I still wasn't really accustomed to such displays of intimacy, and something felt out of place in my heart as I reciprocated the gesture to the young man.

\----

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. Harry acted like a child with a new toy, completely obsessed with his journal. I, on the other hand, monitored my excitement and inventoried the full stock of ingredients that Harry had purchased for me, taking into consideration what each item could be used for.

This is how much of the time following Christmas was spent, Harry with his nose buried in a book and me with my nose buried in a cauldron.

\----

A quiet knock woke me from my sleep the morning of my birthday. A muttered _tempus_ alerted me to the fact that it was 7:15 a.m., right around the time I usually woke up. "Come in." I called out into the darkness, quickly shielding my eyes to the light that came flooding into my room. I removed my hand once my eyes adjusted, revealing the sight of one Harry Potter dressed in an apron and carrying a platter of food.

The smell wafted over to me as Harry approached and I found myself moving to sit upright in bed, stomach growling. "Good morning, birthday boy." Harry announced teasingly in a singsong voice. "I figured the best gift I could give you was a home cooked breakfast and some peace and quiet." He set the tray of food on my lap and I couldn't help but salivate slightly as I took the spread in. He had fixed all of my favorite breakfast staples: fried eggs, sausage, and toast served with a steaming hot breakfast blend tea on the side.

"Thank you." I said hesitantly as I met Harry's expectant looking eyes. "Of course!" He replied excitedly in response. "After you eat your breakfast, feel free to head back to your own chambers. I intend to keep myself out of trouble today so you won't need to spend all day babysitting me, you can actually spend some time focusing on what you'd like to do!" With that, Harry gestured for me to dig in and turned around to bound right back out of my temporary bed chambers.

After polishing off the last bit of my breakfast (it was all delicious), I set off about my daily ritual. I flooed back to my dungeon chambers and cleaned myself up, then got dressed. It was at this point that I found myself to be a bit puzzled. What exactly was I supposed to do all day? Most of my time was spent around Harry, whether that be practicing magic, having sex, or simply relaxing. It was hard to remember what my life was like before he came about demanding such a large portion of my time.

Maybe demanding wasn't the right word, I surely didn't _hate_ all the time we spent together. "Merlin, Severus, what's wrong with you?" I muttered aloud, pacing across my office. "You spend a few months with someone and suddenly you can't keep yourself preoccupied for just one day alone?" 

Although frustrated beration usually did the trick, I still found myself stumped as to what to do for the rest of the day. I eventually settled on brewing a few potions that I knew Poppy was running low on, although I could hear Harry's teasing voice in my head as I worked. "Really Severus, this is how you want to spend your birthday? Brewing Skele-Gro?" I shook the voice off and returned focus to my work, though thoughts of Harry seemed to hang in every corner of my mind. 

By the time I finished brewing, it was mid evening. Surely it would be acceptable for me to return to Harry's chambers by now? It wasn't like I was going to appear needy by any means, I had simply achieved all i wished to complete for the day and was returning to my place of rest. I found myself debating whether or not it was too early to go back all the way up until I threw the handful of floo powder into the fireplace.

When I landed in Harry's office, I found the man seated behind his desk, poring over my translation of the intention magic book. Harry looked up in surprise at my return before speaking. "Back already?" So I was too early, damn it all. "Yes," I responded coolly. "I had achieved all I wished to and had decided to simply relax for the rest of the day."

"Oh!" Harry was clearly surprised at my answer, though at what part of it I was unsure. "I just figured you would maximize your time away from me is all, it's not too often that you get a free pass to be separated from me for all that long nowadays."

'Well, you git, it turns out even when we're separated I can't keep my mind off of you.' I thought to myself, though aloud all I did was huff and roll my eyes before setting myself down in my favorite chair, book in hand. 

We let time drag on like this for some great while, both of us buried in our respective tomes. It was during this time that I felt the peace I had been yearning for while brewing. Did Harry's presence really pose so great of an impact on my mental state? Why was it that the man who usually infuriated me to no end seemed to have become the key to my sanity and relaxation? 

I got lost in this line of thought for some great while and when I finally broke free I felt eyes upon me. Looking up, I met orbs of emerald green which seemed to be studying my movements. "Ya know, there's one other thing I could offer you as a birthday present." With those words, something _hungry_ sparked on Harry's face as his eyes raked up and down my body. I felt my groin stir as I opted to discard my book, raising an eyebrow as I watched Harry do the same with his own reading material. 

"And just what might that be, Mister Potter?" Harry smirked in his usual charming and self confident way. "You want a birthday blowjob?"

\----

I had thought Harry to be amazing the first time he blew me, but he had gotten even better with practice. His tongue swirled around my head with precision and he took my length down his throat with ease.

Part of me wanted to be embarrassed at how quickly he was pulling me to the brink, but the majority of my mind was too far lost in the haze of pleasure to feel self conscious about my behavior.

The obscene sounds that left Harry's mouth echoed throughout his quiet office, practically ringing in my ears. He had pulled me out of his mouth and was running his tongue along the shaft of my cock as he knew I liked and I couldn't help but twitch and bury my fingers tighter in his hair. "I'm close." I hissed out through gnashed teeth. That was all the encouragement that Harry needed.

Immediately, he bobbed his head back down on my cock, taking me all into his throat. He swallowed once, twice around me and I fell over the edge, orgasming deep into him. 

I felt him swallow one more time around my now softening prick before I withdrew. He let out a sputtering cough once I was out of his mouth and accepted a handkerchief when offered. 

"That was probably record time." Harry announced with a self-satisfied smirk. A couple thoughts of ways to knock that expression off his face bounced around in my head, but I settled for raising my foot to press lightly between Harry's legs, pinning his erection beneath me.

That did the trick, Harry had let go of his smile and offered a particularly delectable expression in exchange, slightly biting his lip. "Severus, don't tease me like this." 

I didn't heed his warning, instead slipping down to my knees and laying Harry out across the floor with an insistent hand. I deftly unfastened his trousers and freed his erection from his boxers, which garnered a sigh of relief from the young Potter beneath me. 

Quickly, I went to work, eager to return the favor. I felt a hand join my head as it bobbed up and down, but instead of trying to the gain control over the rhythm, it simply stroked my hair, brushing it out of my face and whatnot. When I looked up at Harry my view was uninhibited, I found a striking young sex god who was looking at me with blown pupils and still slightly red lips.

The image urged me to work faster, though I did my best not to move my gaze from beautiful scene before me. I wanted to watch Harry come, I wanted to watch Harry come because of me.

I was soon rewarded, as the hand that had been simply stroking my hair tightened its grip and Harry's eyes screwed shut as he fucked up into my mouth before coming deep inside.

We laid on the floor for a while, both rather spent, before Harry nudged me and whispered "Wanna see a trick?" I managed a short laugh and a nod and before I could process what had happened I found that I was on a notably softer surface.

Looking around, I realized we had been transported to Harry's bed. "Wh- how?" I asked, too shocked to form full thoughts.

"Intention magic." Harry announced, that damn self satisfied smile on his face. "I can only do short distances at the moment but it feels a helluva lot better than apparition, right?"

We soon both drifted off to sleep, although not before I chastised Harry for including me in one of his magic experiments without at least asking me properly first.

\----

Before I knew it, classes had resumed once again. The castle, still covered in snow, looked as if it should still hold that peaceful presence it did all throughout the holiday, but in reality the screaming masses had taken control over the grounds once more. 

I dredged my way through the first week of classes and found myself missing the harmonious energy I had grown accustomed to over break. If you had told me a year prior that I would be longing to have more alone time with Harry Potter I would have called you crazy, yet here I was. 

Each night I found myself staying up as late as Harry did (which was rather late indeed, as the man was now dedicating most of his free time to analyzing every last word I wrote for his translation of the intention magic text) just to be able to witness the young professor at work. 

He truly was astounding. Already, he had begun to make serious progress in this field of magic. I could only wonder what he would be capable of in his future.

\----

"Are you in love with him?"

Paige's first question following the check-in portion of my fourth mind healing session hit me like a ton of bricks. Me? In love? Never. I, Severus Snape, loved no one, at least not romantically. Yes, I had started to spend a little more time each session talking about my relationship with Harry and sure, I liked the sex. Hell, I'd even admit that I liked Harry, as a person, that is. But love? The very word seemed to wound me, so much so that when I attempted to repeat Paige's question I found the phrase stuck in my throat.

"I don't mean to pry and we don't have to discuss this now if you aren't comfortable, but I can say even in our short time together I have seen the way you talk about Harry evolve. You should take time to be mindful about your interactions with him, there may be more present than what you've been willing to perceive."

With that, Paige let the topic drop and the rest of the session continued on as normal, though I found that any long pauses in conversation led to my mind drifting back to her initial question. What could possibly make my mind healer think I was in love with Harry bloody Potter?

After the session was done, Harry and I's trip home was noticably quieter than usual, or maybe it just felt that way? Harry seemed to be behaving both oddly and the same as ever at the same time, a conundrum that made my head hurt.

\----

Once back at the castle, Harry suddenly turned to me, with that look on his face that told me he had a question. Had he noticed what I thought to be a strange dynamic between the two of us? What could he possibly want?

"So, um, I'll begin teaching the patronus charm soon. Would you be willing to drop by my class and provide an example?"

Oh thank Merlin, crisis averted.

"Why do you ask? Is your _magnificent_ stag not enough to impress your students?" I asked pointedly, although there was no real heat behind the question, I was mostly genuinely curious as to why he would want me there.

"Well, I just thought the students would benefit from seeing as many different versions of the charm as possible, I've also asked Professor McGonagall to assist with in class presentations."

"Fine." I finally conceded shortly, I had never been fond of casting my patronus except when necessary, but between Harry's begging expression and his reasonable explanation I couldn't find it in me to tell the man no.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some preparations to make for my weekend detentions." Without waiting for a reply from Harry, I turned and headed towards the dungeons, to the safety of my private quarters.

\----

The truth was, casting the patronus charm made me nervous. Although I had achieved the feat multiple times in my life, it is said that only those who are pure of heart are able to successfully complete the charm. I reserved its usage for instances of high emotions or importance, times where I did not have the luxury of debating how blackened my soul was. 

Now, though. Now I had agreed to a simple display of my power and nothing more. There would be no danger, no overwhelming emotion to guide me. 

I tried to conjure my happiest memory, one of playing with Lily by the river when we were young, but as the words 'Expecto Patronum' left my lips only a wisp of grey smoke surfaced. I tried again, attempting to focus on the memory, but found my recollection to be somewhat hazy.

I couldn't properly remember my happiest memory. What was wrong with me? Then, as if out of nowhere, Paige's words came floating back to me.

As if I felt the need to prove her foolish idea wrong, I let my thoughts drift off to Harry. His smile, his scent, regarding him on his broom from his office window, that impossibly wide grin he flashed on Christmas morning.

"Expecto Patronum!" The room filled with silver light, a doe springing forth from the tip of my wand. It trotted a few feet away from me before turning and cocking its head in my direction.

I did it, I summoned my patronus.

I summoned my patronus while thinking about Harry Potter.

I suddenly became acutely aware of the pounding in my chest as the last piece of a puzzle fell into place in my heart.

I was in love with Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready y'all, there's only one more chapter left!! after that I'll be uploading an alternative ending so keep your eyes peeled ;^)


	6. Together

So, I was in love with Harry Potter.

Great.

Although my entire world view had changed in the last day, life soldiered on without care. Returning to Harry's chambers that evening had been a Herculean task. What was even more painful was the idea of facing Harry's Patronus lesson the next afternoon.

In fact, an overwhelming sense of dread fell over me by breakfast, making it difficult to choke down my meal. Although the logical portion of my brain knew it wasn't true, a large amount of me feared that it would be obvious that I was thinking of Harry while i cast my Patronus. 

What would the young man say if he knew? Obviously that would be the end of our physical relationship, he _had_ said his whole reason for seeking me out in the first place was because he felt confident we wouldn't develop feelings for one another. 

What about our friendship? Would Harry want to be around me anymore if he knew my true feelings? Not likely, he'd be polite and charming in turning me down and would probably say that we would still be friends, but he would avoid me whenever possible - maybe even quit his job!

"Now that was getting to be a bit dramatic." I scolded myself out loud as I left the Great Hall and headed for the potions classroom. Sure, it was not out of line to assume that our friendship would end upon the revelation of my true feelings, but I couldn't imagine the situation being so bad that Harry felt the need to flee the school entirely. Maybe I would simply return to my post of watching from afar, only interfering when absolutely needed.

\----

The day dragged on mercilessly, I was both overflowing with energy and completely drained as I worked through my first three potions classes of the day. Oh, how I wished Harry taught the seventh years in the morning, I just wanted to get this over with.

Finally, after picking at my lunch, it was time. I began making the trek up to Harry's classroom and with each step I felt my emotions swirling in turmoil around me. I paused outside of the classroom door, taking a breath to collect myself, before entering to see Harry, Minerva, and a gaggle of seventh year students.

Harry greeted me with a warm smile and Minerva welcomed me with a kind grin of her own. Seeing the two of them, my lover and one of my closest friends, looking so fondly at me helped bolster my confidence and I suddenly began to wonder if I had massively overestimated how big of a headache today was going to be.

Harry spent the first portion of the class period explaining the history and significance of the Patronus charm and I was happy to sit by and listen to his rough voice lecture on. Next, though, was the portion that made my heart begin to pick up the pace once more: professor examples.

Minerva went first, making a bit of a show of casting her charm. Her silver cat darted around the room and managed to garner some chuckles from the students. 

Next was Harry, who awkwardly rubbed his neck and had an inscrutable expression on his face. He took a deep breath before casting and looked somewhat relieved when his silver stag sprung forth from the tip of his wand, for what reason only Merlin knows why. This is the same man who chased off a hundred dementors at age thirteen after all.

Then it all came down to me. I felt all eyes upon me as I stepped forward. I shut down my senses for a moment and focused only on finding a joyful memory. Eventually, I settled on the feeling of being wrapped in Harry's tight hug on Christmas morning. "Expecto Patronum." I intoned, and with that a silver doe burst into the room, prancing about the students. 

For a second I felt self conscious about the stark contrast between me and my Patronus, but set that aside as I looked over to see Harry beaming at me. I wondered if Lily would be happy if she could see us now.

\----

Following the displays from the professors, Harry insisted that the seventh years take a crack at casting their own patronus charms. There was little success, which wasn't surprising. It was an incredibly complicated task to summon a patronus, and not a particularly necessary skill to learn. 

Still, one student took her failure particularly hard. After her fourth try, Sarah Davies (one of my particularly gifted snakes) burst into tears. Before I could react, Harry was already crossing the room to be by her side. He whispered something to her then looked up to find me.

"I think that's enough practice for today everyone, be on your way." I announced, shooting a signature glare in order to stomp out any protests. While the room cleared out, Harry escorted Sarah to his office, leaving Minerva and I behind.

"Severus, how have you been my dear?" I had known Minerva long enough to know there were layers to that question. "I'm fine, thank you for asking." I said cautiously, afraid she may have picked up on something after seeing Harry and I in the same room for an hour. "That's good to hear, I hope you know you can reach out to me if need be." With that, she flashed her usual cat-with-the-canary smile at me.

Minerva and I made idle chitchat for a while, but once it was clear that Harry's discussion wouldn't be ending any time soon I decided to return to the dungeons.

\----

The time spent in my chambers was by no means productive. In fact, most of my energy was spent worrying about my young snake. Sarah was a brilliant witch, someone who was likely to have never failed at something so completely before.

She was also one of my more /troubled/ students. Both of her parents had been Death Eaters, and the family she had been left with following her original guardians' life sentence to Azkaban was likely full of sympathizers. 

Sarah was not hateful, not at her core, but she had been in the middle of some inter-house conflicts in the years following the war. It had gotten worse once her brother Matthew arrived at Hogwarts and began being bullied. I wondered if the young girl carried a similar fear to mine, struck with the idea she wasn't good enough to have a Patronus.

I was chewing on that particular thought when my fireplace roared with green flames, Harry's head peeking through in the middle. "Severus, I need to talk with you."

\----

Upon my arrival, I couldn't help but note the heavy atmosphere in Harry's chambers. The man himself looked grim and the air seemed to weigh down the room.

"What's going on?" I asked, hesitant to hear the man's answer. "History seems to be repeating itself, Severus." My mind raced, flitting through possible scenarios that Harry could be talking about until I finally understood.

"You don't mean-" I began, fully aware that I had already drawn the correct conclusion. "Yes, Sarah has been tasked with attempting to kill me." Harry looked half dead already, like the very idea sickened him.

"She's a child, Severus. Like Draco, her family forced her into this cause. And her brother, Matthew - the one I found being bullied by my Gryffindors - his life is also at risk should Sarah fail." Tears were welling in Harry's eyes as he spoke, but he shook them away.

"We have to do something and we have to do it now. Sarah is supposed to act by the end of the week, in that time we need to make a plan to keep her and her brother safe."

"We need to do more than that." I said calmly. "Now is the best time to stomp out what remains of the Death Eaters, if we don't, it will only be a matter of time before this happens again." Harry nodded solemnly before sighing, running his fingers through his ever unruly hair.

"Alright then, what's the plan?"

\----

The first step was to clue in Minerva on the situation, we would need her help to protect Matthew and Sarah should something go wrong. She was obviously opposed to the idea of the two of us going up against a camp of Death Eaters alone, but after an hour's worth of arguing she finally backed down.

Next, Harry and I posted up in his office, going over every detail of information Sarah had been able to provide. From what we knew, there was a base for the Death Eaters set up on the outskirts of London - a shoddy building which housed ten witches and wizards.

We knew no specifics about what to expect from each individual Death Eater, nearly every person who had served under Lord Voldemort had been killed or locked up and those who remained had not been important enough for me to gather intel on.

We had to time this right, it didn't matter if these people were not the same fearsome Death Eaters Harry had faced in the past, ten against two had always been a risky fight. Still, as we worked into the morning hours on our attack, I couldn't help but feel a sense a pride in Harry's strategic abilities - maybe he was a Slytherin after all.

Finally, around five o'clock in the morning, we had done it. After hours of consideration and debate, we had managed to settle on a plan which gave us the best shot possible.

It would be an attack by night, as that helped to assure every Death Eater would be present. Furthermore, startling the enemy from their sleep would hopefully give us a strong advantage.

"Well, what do you think?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. "I think we've managed to give ourselves a fighting chance, at the very least." A wry smile tipped Harry off to the fact that I had a little more faith in our plan than I was letting on, but he let my answer go without asking any further questions.

"Well, we best rest up, we have a long night ahead of us." Harry flashed a small smile, then rose from his chair to stretch. He started off for his bed chambers before turning around once more. "Severus?"

"Yes?" Harry's eyes shone brightly through dark circles that were a shade or two deeper than usual. "Will you lay with me? At least for a little while? It's stupid, but I sleep easier when you're with me." 

I would never admit it, but I had found the same to be true for me. "If you insist, Harry." 

\----

We slept together through most of the day and by dusk the two of us had set off from the castle. Once we were a sufficient distance away, we apparated into a rather sketchy area of London.

"We shouldn't be far." I announced, taking the lead. Quietly, the two of us moved under the cover of night until we came upon the dilapidated hideout. At our arrival, I pulled out my wand. With a wave, I was able to reveal that the entrance to the building was protected by a strong variety of charms. "This may take a couple hours to undo." I announced with a sigh, we hadn't exactly anticipated an unlocked door with a welcome mat, but this was a little much.

"Wait, let me try something first." Harry piped up before gently moving me away from the entrance. He then turned his focus to the doorknob and reached his hand out. I watched as Harry's face drew into a look of pure concentration, his brows furrowed and lips pulled into a slight frown. 

After a few moments of concentration, a faint glow began to outline Harry. "Merlin's pants, I think it worked. Here, give me your hand." He quickly snatched up my left hand and suddenly I, too was glowing.

"Would you like to tell me what you're doing, exactly?" I asked, my patience wearing thin. "Intention magic!" Harry chirped as he brazenly brought us closer to the front door and then _through_ it.

Once on the other side, we found ourselves in a small, dim room with a door across from us and a flight of stairs to our left. "How did you manage-" I started in a harsh whisper before being cut off by a shrug. "I thought hard about the two of us making it safely through the door. So, voilà." 

I considered smacking that cheeky grin off of Harry's face but thought better of it. "So, Sarah said they all sleep on the second floor in a makeshift dormitory, let's get a move on."

With that, the two of us started our careful ascent up the stairs. When we reached the second floor landing we found the space to be just as dark and disheveled as the first floor. The floor was dirty, bottles and cans were strewn about, and papers were kept in haphazard stacks along the walls. The place looked like it belonged to a Muggle gang rather than a fanatical Pureblood organization.

From the landing, we could see two doors down the hallway. "The second should be the dormitory." I whispered, motioning for Harry to follow me quietly down the hall. 

When we made it to the door, I waved my wand again to reveal the charms present and like before Harry focused, began to glow, then took my hand. We walked through with no trouble and once on the other side we were faced with ten sleeping Death Eaters. 

Our plan was to wipe out as many as we could in one go, then face the others as needed. The best way to achieve that involved the usage of Sectumsempra, which Harry was originally opposed to. Eventually, after listening to my perception of the situation, he gave in to casting the spell he had promised himself he'd never use again. 

We stood back to back, each facing a wall of beds. In unison, we waved our wands and spoke the needed incantation.

What happened next passed almost in a blur. The screams of our first targets awoke the remaining Death Eaters. I immediately responded by throwing a Killing Curse at a brutish looking man who had started towards me.

Harry, on the other hand, sent a woman flying out of the window at the opposite end of the room. We were both knocked to the floor by an unexpected Flipendo, but Harry quickly regained his footing. 

I was slower to rise and by the time I was on my feet, a Killing Curse was just centimeters from striking me.

"NO!" Harry's exclamation boomed through the room, followed by a massive explosion of light. Once the supernova faded, I found the remaining Death Eaters all laying still on the floor. "Harry-" I turned to face the man who was likely the most powerful wizard of our time, only for my sentence to catch in my throat as I saw him laying on the floor as well.

"Help me up?" Fortunately, he was not still like the others. I grabbed Harry's outstretched hand and pulled him up to his feet, immediately checking over his injuries. He had some cuts and scrapes, but everything appeared fine on the surface at least. Upon this realization, I let go of the breath I hadn't noticed I had been holding and allowed Harry to check me over as well.

I was no worse off than Harry thankfully, I feared the man might have burst into tears if I had one too many hairs out of place. "I'm fine, Potter, you can stop looking over every inch of me." 

"Fine, fine." Harry conceded, holding his hands up in surrender as a smile crept across his face. "I think we could call this a success, Severus. Are you ready to go home?"

Home? That sounded nice. I had never really considered the castle home before, but things were different with Harry by my side. "Yes, let's go home."

\----

We apparated back to the outskirts of the school grounds and began our hike back to the castle. Our journey was a silent one, or it had been, until the front doors of Hogwarts were in view.

"You know, I've been wanting to do this for a while now." Harry's voice sounded odd, so I turned to face him. Next thing I knew, his fists were in my robes and I was being hauled towards the younger man.

Our first kiss wasn't pretty. Both of our faces were covered in blood, dirt, and sweat, our lips were chapped from the cold, and our noses crashed into one another, but it was beautiful all the same.

I was so drawn in to the moment that it took a second for me to realize Harry's lips had stopped moving and he was pushing against my chest.

I opened my eyes, bewildered, and was immediately greeted with Harry's awestruck expression. "Severus, do you feel it?" I paused and began to fully assess the situation. My magic was thrumming as hard as my heart was beating, but nothing else seemed to be amiss. "What are you prattling on about?" I asked, desperately wanting to go back to what we had been doing moments before.

"I want to you to use legilimency to look in my mind and see what I see." Harry still looked slightly awestruck, but there was something else boiling underneath that expression. I started to protest, but was cut off. "Come on, humor me." 

"I don't see what you're so bent on achieving but fine, Legilimens!" Harry had let down all of his barriers, so I slipped into his mind easily. He led me through to his memory of what had just occurred, starting with my shocked expression as he pulled me in for the kiss. 

When memory-Harry pulled back, I couldn't help but gasp in surprise. Magic was visibly whirling all around us, the implications shook me so deeply that I retreated from Harry's memory without noticing, falling back onto the ground. "You- We're-" I managed to stutter ever intelligently. 

"Soulmates." Harry finished for me. "Yeah, I'm blown away too." The young man no longer looked awestruck, instead his face was filled with pure and unbridled joy. He bent down to help me up and once I was standing again I found myself pulled into a tight hug. 

"I had always hoped it was you, but I was too afraid to find out." Harry's voice sounded choked up, and I was not surprised to find my own faltered when I attempted to reply. "Al- always?" 

"Since I was old enough to really understand soulmates, at least, yeah. You might've been a right proper bastard to me for years, but I still secretly saw you as my knight in shining armor." I couldn't help but laugh at that imagery. Me, a hero? Never.

"Not a perfect knight, mind you, but the right knight for me." Harry added with a laugh of his own. The young man then pulled back from the hug to lock eyes with me. "Severus, are you okay with this? With me? The fates may consider us a proper match, but I want to hear what you think." 

"I think-" I began, trying my best not to avert my eyes out of embarrassment. "I think I'm in love with you, Harry Potter." The grin that sentence summoned onto the young man's face was blinding, like what he had shown me on Christmas morning times ten. 

I couldn't resist any longer. Placing my hands on either side of Harry's face, I pulled him in for another kiss. We melded together so seamlessly, it felt like pure bliss.

My mind was torn in a thousand different directions as the kiss deepened. This wasn't real, I want to worship him, I don't deserve this, I want to devour him, this won't last, I love him.

Finally, we separated for air. When we did, I felt hot tears begin to roll down my cheek. "What's wrong?" Harry demanded, completely confused. "How could you love me?" I asked, falling apart more as he brushed away my tears.

Harry's expression was warm and radiating love, kindness, and everything else I had been missing most of my life. "How could I not?"

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this ending! Attached to this in a series is the other ending I wrote for this story, please give it a look as well!


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